I’d thought we’d glimpsed the end of the tunnel, but here we were plunging straight into another one. A proper calm gasp of air between the two would have been nice.
‘It’s not…’ Dawn said, studying my features. ‘It’s nothing bad. But it has been…’
I raised my eyebrows as I waited.
‘It has been a kind of lie, I suppose. And it hasn’t helped us be close.’
‘OK,’ I said.
‘Mum had cancer,’ she said, and for some reason – perhaps because those words were so unexpected – it took me a moment to understand what she’d said.
‘Cancer,’ I finally repeated.
‘Breast cancer. Back in… 2016 or 2017 I think. About three years ago, anyway. And she had to have a partial mastectomy. And then chemo. And then reconstructive surgery. So that’s where I was, in case you wondered. In my head, I mean. And actually physically, too, a lot of the time.’
‘A mastectomy. That’s…’ I gestured vaguely towards my chest.
‘Yes,’ Dawn said. ‘They removed half of one of her breasts.’
‘Jesus,’ I said. ‘But why—?’
‘She wouldn’t let me tell you,’ Dawn said, answering my unfinished question. ‘She wouldn’t let me tell anyone. She made me promise. She’s told a couple of people now it’s all over, so I s’pose it’s OK. But at the time she said that if I told you she’d never speak to me again.’
‘But that must have been awful,’ I said.
‘Oh, it was. She was in pieces for weeks, months, years, really. It was terrifying for her.’
I hadn’t actually been thinking of Tracey, though that was probably wrong of me. I’d been thinking about how awful it must have been forDawn, worrying about her mother and not being able to share any of the burden with anyone else.
‘And for you,’ I said. ‘That must have been hard foryou.’
Dawn shrugged. ‘It wasn’t easy,’ she said. ‘But I just sort of battened down the hatches and sailed into the storm with her. I think I’d had plenty of practice with Lucy, if I’m honest.’
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘I was so…’ I shrugged. ‘Busy… I didn’t even notice. I mean, I did, but I just thought… I don’t know… that you were bored with me, I suppose. You seemed distracted. Which obviously now makes sense.’
‘But that’s a bit true, too,’ Dawn said. ‘I did feel a bit bored with it all. That’s why I wanted to tell you. Because it wasn’t only your fault. Your being “busy”.’
She made quote marks with her fingers as she said the word ‘busy’ and I flinched at the memory of everything hiding behind that euphemism.
‘That wasn’t one hundred per cent your fault,’ she continued. ‘Because it suited me – and yes, I know that’s a horrible thing to say – but as we’re being so honest here, I need to say it: I had to be with Mum – I had no choice but to be with her all the time, and you being “busy” actually gave me some space. So I may have been a bit complicit.’
‘Bloody hell, Dawn,’ I said. ‘You’re amazing. Do you know that?’
‘With amazing like that, who needsawful?’
‘No, I mean, the way you know what you’re thinking. The way you can just say it and be so clear. You do amaze me. You always did.’
Dawn smiled sadly. ‘I thought about it a lot while I was… during these last few days… And I wanted to tell you it wasn’t all your fault.’
‘But you’re wrong,’ I said. ‘My bit… well, that is, was, my fault. I just want you to know that I’m owning it. And I feel terrible about it.’
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Well, you own yours, I’ll own mine.’
We looked at each other until we started, just barely, to smile, and then Dawn said, ‘I need to go for a walk; get a breath of fresh air; clear my head. Do you mind?’ She stood and pushed her chair back from the table.
‘Not at all,’ I told her. ‘As long as you’re coming back.’
She smiled properly then and reached out to touch my shoulder. ‘I’ll be back in an hour or so,’ she said. ‘And then we can take things from there.’
