After a few back and forths about Laurie’s kids needing lifts to various places, and Deirdre having a family party, plus a million and one other things these busy women had to do, we eventually settled on swapping Thursday’s art therapy to Friday music therapy at Kalani’s. I hadn’t done karaoke since a night out with my housemates in Leeds, when my sister, Lilly, had come up to visit.
I swallowed down my alarm and firmly told myself that it was about time I gave ‘We Are Family’ another go, then.
I would sing it for my sister.
And maybe, if these new becoming sisters sang it with me, I would make it past the first line.
23
It was a long day on Wednesday, while Hattie was scanned and biopsied and drained of multiple vials of blood. I sat in the private hospital waiting room, reading the same three lines in a book over and over, letting mugs of coffee go cold and hoping and praying that this would end with a rueful smile and a sigh of relief.
The woman who finally walked out of the doctor’s room at the end of the day was not smiling. Her hands shook as she tried stuffing a wodge of papers into her bag, eyes darting around for something that wasn’t there.
I gently led her to the passenger seat of her car, anticipating that she might not be up to driving, and waited until we were well on the way home before I asked.
‘I have to wait for the test results to be sure. But I’ve had enough practice reading faces to know that Dr Ambrose is sure enough. It’ll be chemo. More medication. But it’s probably just delaying tactics at this point. And I really like my hair.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘What do I do, Sophie? When I wake up tomorrow, and the next day, and however many left I’ve got after that? Do I spend the next few months alternating between a hospital drip, the toilet bowl and my bed, in the hope I have a few more? Or do I spend it soaking up every last second of the place and people I love?’
‘You’ve got time to decide, once you hear the results.’
‘And what about my dog?’ That was when she started to cry. Loud sobs that ripped through her torso.
I’d heard these sobs countless times before. Cried them myself often enough. There wasn’t much more to do than wait for a red traffic light and then take her hand in mine.
‘You know I’ll have Flapjack, if it comes to it, if you need me to.’
She sucked in a wheezing whoop of half-hysterical laughter as we started up again. ‘What, that great big lump in your motorhome? He’d destroy the place with one wag of his tail.’
‘He could move into the boathouse. Agnes would love it.’
‘If you think Agnes will be around longer than me, I must look worse than I thought.’ She rummaged in her bag for a tissue and, after dabbing at her face and adjusting her curls in the mirror, she gave my hand another squeeze. ‘Who knows? By the time I’m dead, you might be ready to move into the boathouse with her.’
‘You think there’s space in there for me, Muffinandyour enormous dog?’
Hattie sank back into her seat, eyes closing as she smiled. ‘If Gideon’s bed is anything like his heart, it’ll be big enough.’
* * *
When we arrived back at Riverbend, there was a note from Lizzie stuck onto a pile of papers next to a pot of chicken casserole.
This is what needed to be read/signed/sorted today. Hope you had fun at the spa.
‘You told her we were at a spa?’
Hattie shrugged. ‘There’s no point her worrying too until we know what we’re worrying about. I have a feeling Lizzie is going to be more concerned about losing her job than her boss.’
‘That’s not true,’ I said, slipping the casserole into the oven. ‘She’s already worried about you. She thinks you’re confiding secrets in me that you won’t share with her.’
‘Well, she’s right. I suppose some people are simply easier to confide in.’ She handed me a glass of wine. ‘After all, you are one of the Gals.’
‘You really need to tell her something soon.’
Hattie pondered that. ‘Here’s the thing, Sophie: when you find out that your cancer has turned aggressive, and is trying its damnedest to kill you, you suddenly find out what you really need, and I’m not sure that includes telling Lizzie my private problems.’
* * *
