Never Say Goodbye (43 page)

Oh dear God, what if she didn’t live long enough to see Ryan leave prison? She couldn’t let that happen, she just couldn’t. He needed her to help him start again, to keep him safe from any more mistakes, to ensure he made up with his father. Whether Lily was right about him being gay or not, she wanted to see him find a nice partner, someone who’d make him happy and feel loved. It would be easier to leave him if she knew he was settled and taken care of.

She didn’t want to leave him at all.

Please God don’t take me away before I get him back.

What would it be like for Lily no longer having her to turn to? She was more independent than Ryan, and would have a husband soon, but their closeness was as vital a part of her life as it was of Josie’s. Never a day went by that they didn’t speak or text; it was as natural to them as breathing. How was Lily going to cope when her phone fell silent, and her mother was never there when she came home?

She had to be here. Lily depended on it, and she did too.

Her children were her life.

Terrible, wrenching sobs were tearing through her body. She could barely catch her breath. She wanted to make this stop, to carry on seeing an endless road ahead of her instead of the wall that was starting to form. Faces of those she knew began coming and going, painted with sympathy, shock, confusion, even laughter. She wanted to reach out and hold on to them, as though they could pull her out of this despair and keep her here.

What was it going to mean to Jeff to lose her? After all the years they’d been together, the ups and downs they’d shared, the dreams they’d made come true or had to discard, how much was he going to miss her? Even if he still had feelings for Dawnie, she knew he still cared about her. He might not always show it, but she could sense it, and that was what really mattered. They were bound by the knowing of each other and the sharing of children and the day-to-day ordinariness of their lives. She couldn’t imagine him without her, any more than she could imagine herself without him. Josie and Jeff. Even their names belonged together.

Would he go to Dawnie after she’d gone?

Hearing the front door close, she tried to pull herself together as she listened to him moving about downstairs. She wished he’d come and lie down with her, give her a cuddle and tell her everything would be all right.

Had he spoken to Lily yet? He was sure to have done, so he’d know by now that she didn’t have to have a mastectomy, and that the tumour had shrunk. It was good to give them something to feel pleased about; they didn’t need to deal with all this fear going round in her head. Plenty of time for that in the months to come, after the wedding, or even later than that, depending on how things progressed.

How was it progressing now, as she lay here? Was it creeping through her bones like a poison, eating away at them, destroying them and moving on to claim more? What had she done to make her own body turn against her like this? Why couldn’t she undo it?

Maybe they’d find a cure in time to save her.

She knew everyone in her position prayed for that, and now she was going to start praying for it too.

Jeff was going in and out of the back door by the sound of it, probably bringing his fishing gear in from the shed. He usually went off with his mates around Eastertime, so maybe they’d chosen this weekend. Though she desperately wanted him to stay with her, she also wanted him to go; it would give her more time to get herself under control ready to face the world again.

‘Are you asleep?’ Jeff whispered, cracking the door open.

Maybe she’d dropped off for a few minutes, because she hadn’t heard him come up. ‘No, I’m awake,’ she told him, keeping her eyes closed so he wouldn’t see she’d been crying. ‘What are you up to down there?’ she asked, as he sat on the end of the bed.

‘I was just putting the washing out,’ he said.

Surprise almost made her eyes open. He’d never done that in all the years they’d been married, or not that she could remember.

‘How’re you feeling?’ he asked. ‘Can I get you something? Nice cup of tea?’

‘I’m all right,’ she answered, ‘just a bit tired so I thought I’d have a nap.’

‘Yes, you do that. It’ll make you feel better.’

‘Are you going fishing this weekend?’ she asked as he started to leave.

‘No, I thought I’d give it a miss this year.’

She wondered why.

‘It’s good news, isn’t it,’ he said, ‘that you don’t have to go through that operation.’

She managed a smile as she nodded.

‘I’ll pop back in an hour to see how you are,’ he told her.

‘Thanks,’ she whispered. It was lovely that he seemed so caring. Maybe he’d finally read the booklet for partners of people with cancer; or he could be feeling more able to cope now there had been some good news.

Feeling more tears stinging her eyes she willed him to leave the room, but her mobile was ringing and he was picking it up.

‘It’s Bel,’ he said. ‘Do you want to speak to her?’

‘Not right now. Tell her I’m sleeping and I’ll ring her back. Or no, let it go through to messages.’ Though she couldn’t imagine Bel telling him what she’d guessed, she didn’t want her having to pretend there was good news when she knew there wasn’t.

‘I’ll take it downstairs with me,’ Jeff said, holding on to the phone, ‘so it won’t disturb you.’

She wanted to say he could just turn it off, but she was too close to tears to speak.

As the door closed behind him, she sobbed so harshly she was afraid he might hear, but he didn’t come back.

She had to get a better grip on herself than this, and she would, she really would, just as soon as the shock wore off a bit and she found a way to stop herself thinking about the future she might not have.

Bel was sitting at the table with her head in her hands, feeling so agitated she barely knew what to do with herself. She couldn’t go through it again, she just couldn’t, but nor could she walk away from Josie as though she didn’t care, when she could hardly care more.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she’d misread things, or her mind was playing tricks, projecting the past on to the present, and making it fit. History repeating itself: don’t get too close to Bel or you’ll end up dead.

She had to stop doing this or she’d drive herself mad.

The fact that Josie had been told she didn’t need a mastectomy didn’t necessarily mean the cancer had spread – except she’d seen the look in Josie’s eyes, that same glazed shock that had come over Talia after Harry had broken the news to her. She’d tried to hide it too, not from Bel, because Bel had been in the room when Harry had told her, but from Nick, and the children, of course, and from all the friends who’d been so certain she’d end up beating it.

Hearing the entryphone buzz she forced herself to go and find out who it was. Probably the postman, or a courier with some papers for her to sign.

At first she didn’t recognise the car at the gates, but when the driver, who was standing next to it, turned to the camera she saw straight away that it was Harry. Her heart somersaulted as she tried to make sense of why he was there.

‘Can I come in?’ he asked over the intercom.

She didn’t want to see anyone; she couldn’t speak to him now, and yet she was already releasing the gates and opening the door.

She wasn’t aware she was crying until he came up the steps, and taking her hands he pulled her inside.

‘I was afraid I’d find you like this,’ he said, using his fingers to push away her tears.

Her eyes closed. ‘If you’re here . . . If you thought . . . It must mean I’m right about Josie?’

He neither confirmed nor denied it; how could he, when he was Josie’s surgeon?

She tried to speak, but only choked on a sob. She wanted to tell him she couldn’t go through it again, but how could she make it about her when Josie was the only one who mattered?

‘Come on,’ he said, and slipping an arm round her shoulders he led her into the kitchen.

‘I shouldn’t have got involved,’ she said, reaching for a tissue. ‘I wasn’t ready. I’m no good to her . . .’

‘Ssh,’ he came in gently. ‘It’s bringing back a lot of painful memories, it’s bound to. I understand that, and so will Josie.’

She swallowed as she nodded. ‘If I know her at all,’ she said, blowing her nose, ‘she’ll try to push me away so I don’t have to go through it again. I can’t let her do that.’

‘She has family,’ he reminded her.

‘Who she’s trying to protect – you can’t blame her for that. Her best friend slept with her husband so they’re not in touch any more.’

He inhaled deeply, and she was reminded of his wife’s affair. ‘She can’t keep it to herself for ever,’ he pointed out.

Accepting that was true, Bel walked to the window and stared out at the milling clouds. The small patches of blue in their midst seemed like portals to the next world. She felt slightly nauseous and displaced, even from herself.

‘Stop thinking about me,’ Talia said. ‘I’m nothing to do with this.’

‘You’re everything to do with it.’

‘Only because you’re telling yourself that. She’s not your sister; her children aren’t your niece and nephew. You’re separate in a way you could never be from me. She needs you and you won’t let her down.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because who do you think’s talking to you now? It’s not me, it’s you.’

Bel shivered as though someone had walked over her grave.

‘Are you OK?’ Harry asked. ‘Can I get you something?’

She turned round, a faint smile on her lips. ‘It’s me who should be asking you that,’ she said. ‘I have tea, beer, wine . . .’

‘I’m fine. I have to be going soon. I’m expected home, but I wanted to make sure you’re all right.’

Staying where she was, with the table between them, she said, ‘Thank you.’

‘Are you?’ he prompted.

‘I think so. Yes, I am. I suppose I just panicked and . . . Everything seemed very muddled for a while.’

Nodding his understanding, he said, ‘Will you call? If you feel muddled again?’

‘I’m sure I’ll be fine,’ she replied. ‘You don’t need to worry about me.’

She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, and wasn’t entirely sure that she had, but the way he withdrew seemed to suggest she might have.

‘I’ll be going then,’ he said. ‘If you, or Josie, need to talk, you know where to find me.’

She waited until the front door closed behind him before going to release the gates. Her breathing was ragged again, her pulses racing as though a new kind of panic was setting in.

‘He only wants to be friends
.
Why are you shutting him out?’

‘You know why.’

‘He’s lonely, you can see that. He doesn’t want his marriage to break up, surely that must make you feel safe.’

She had no answer to that.

‘Take a chance, Bel.’

‘Why?’

‘Because not all men are the same.’

‘
ARE YOU OUT
of your tiny mind?’

Considering where she was, and what she was doing, Josie had to admit that she possibly was. On the other hand, if she ended up achieving what she’d come for, no one would think she was mad; they might even wonder if she was some sort of magician.

Debbie Prince checked her mobile as she dropped her cigarette end into a cup. With her greasy grey hair, missing teeth and wizened complexion she was a bit of a fright to look at. Scarier even than her was what might be crawling in the sofa Josie was sitting on. ‘Let me get this straight,’ Debbie Prince sniffed, lighting another cigarette. ‘You want me to get
my
son to cop for what
your
son did, so yours can pick up a get-out-of-jail-free card?’

Josie took a breath. ‘Not exactly,’ she replied, feeling her heart rate accelerating; but it was OK, she could do this. ‘We both know that it was your son who hit the man with a baseball bat. So what I’m asking is that he owns up to it so my son can come home, where he belongs.’

Debbie Prince stared at her, apparently waiting for more. When she realised nothing was coming she cackled a laugh and tossed her mobile on to the mantelpiece. ‘I got to hand it to you,’ she declared in her raspy voice, ‘you’ve got some front coming here with your crazy talk. There ain’t many would have the nerve, and you’re lucky I’m in a good mood, or I’d be kicking your scrawny ass out the door by now and telling you to fuck off, because you know that’s where this is going to end, don’t you?’

Josie was determined not to be cowed. ‘My son,’ she began, and stopped as Debbie Prince’s mobile rang.

‘What?’ she barked into it. ‘How the fuck do I know? All right, all right, I’ll go and have a look,’ and as though Josie wasn’t even there she left the room.

Josie stared around at the yellowing wallpaper, cracked and crooked mirror over the brick fireplace and the scraps of Christmas trimmings still pinned to the ceiling. She couldn’t imagine the place had seen a duster or a vac this side of the new millennium, or much in the way of fresh air, given the rank smell and half-boarded-up window. She wondered how anyone could live in such squalor, and felt worried about the child who owned the toys cluttered around a giant TV.

Remembering none of this was her business, she checked her own mobile to see if anyone was trying to be in touch. No one was, which wasn’t surprising since she’d texted Jeff and Lily to say she was going to have a lie-down this afternoon, and they usually waited for her to contact them if she was napping.

It was a surprise, not to mention a profound relief, to find herself handling this course of chemo better than the last one. She’d started it three weeks ago and mercifully had overcome the worst of the side effects a bit quicker than she had before. She still suffered from dreadful fatigue though, and swells of nausea, and chronic constipation, and the sores in her mouth weren’t healing all that well. However, she felt blessed to be getting off relatively lightly this time around – at least for now. She still had two more treatments to go, but if it carried on like this she’d be able to make the most of however much time she had left, which could be years, of course, but there again it might not.