‘Yeah. I will be.’
‘Yeah.’ He’s silent for a moment. ‘Send me your address. I’m … I’ll come see you next couple days if that’s cool.’
A laugh–sob bursts free and Anika lets it this time. ‘Of course that’s cool. I’d love that.’
They say goodbye and Anika is still mopping her face and nose when her mother returns to the cubicle.
‘Ah! Are you OK?’ Nella asks, quickly rushing to Anika’s side and glancing at the chemo machine.
Anika waves her hand. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry. I actually just spoke to Kwesi and it made me a bit …’ She’s not quite sure how to describe the emotion. ‘It was just nice, that’s all.’
‘I am so glad, Anika.’ Nella nods as she moves back to her chair and says nothing more.
Anika understands. There’s so much still to reconcile. So much that Anika thought she could just ignore while she was barrelling towards the things she wanted to grab from life with both hands, stuffing them into a pouch where they couldn’t get away from her.
Anika thought she was given a second chance before – but this?
This is the real deal.
Chapter Forty-Seven
The next morning, Anika pauses over the sink with her toothbrush in her hand, playing out the usual post-chemo conundrum – brush her tongue until the fuzzy metallic taste on it dissipates a bit? Risk igniting her more-sensitive-than-usual gag reflex? She opts to brush, breathing through the sensation and grateful not to have really had any major vomiting with the regimen. When she straightens up and looks at herself in the mirror, her eyes drift up to her freshly washed curls. Her mum had helped her take out her braids and then Anika had washed her hair gingerly, not only due to queasiness, but with caution, ready to feel clumps come away in her hands. Yet the doctor told her the medication she was on may not cause hair loss at all. To the world, so far at least, she doesn’t even tick that visual box of a cancer patient.Or did I just ‘manifest’ a lucky escape in that department?Anika laughs drily at her reflection. It won’t have been the diary this time, that’s for sure. She’s stopped writing in it.
Walking out of the bathroom, Anika decides it’s early enough to retire back to bed for an hour or so before her friends are due to arrive. She doesn’t like to be in bed when people come by, but it should be fine. As she flops back into it, she remembers that the diary is in fact still tucked in the drawer in her bedside table. She sits up against her pillows and considers for a moment, then decides to find it – something she hasn’t done since putting it in there weeks back.
Jaw tight as she flips the pages, Anika runs a finger alongthe jagged remains of the page she tore out as soon as she had the chance after she returned home, the day after her collapse, removing the words that Cam read out to her that awful morning. She betrayed him, in words if not in deeds. Inintention. The first chance she could, Anika tore the page into tiny, rough pieces that matched the way her heart felt.
Holding the diary now, she ponders whether to just start it up again with the benefit of hindsight. Perhaps it could work if she’s more astute in what she tries to manifest? The temptation is strong. With the diary, Anika felt able to regain some mastery over her life. But then it all went haywire in a manner she never would have invited if she reallywerein charge of everything. She’s beginning to realise that what she thought was freedom was really just another form of control …
The sound of her door buzzer awakens her and Anika realises she fell asleep with the diary still gripped in her hand. Shoving it into the drawer again, she goes to buzz her friends into the building, rubbing her face vigorously to hopefully look a bit less like …
‘Fuck, did we wake you up, babe?’ Shameeka asks as she reaches the top of the stairs up to her flat and sees Anika open the front door.
Clearing her throat, Anika lies. ‘Nah. Well, I just fell asleep for a sec. I was up.’ When Shameeka is in front of her, her friend folds her into a tight hug. Anika laughs when Tina reaches the top of the stairs behind Shamz and joins in, moving to clasp her around her back until she’s sandwiched in between her best friends. It’s almost difficult to quantify how grateful she is that they have forgiven her. It reminds her of those days after the first time in hospital, when she somehow made lemonade out of lemons.Itwasgood, for a while there, Anika reasserts to herself. Then Cam’s words come back to her – about needing to find a balance.
‘I love you both,’ she says with feeling, squeezing one armaround her back and one around her front like an octopus, embracing Shamz and T. They both tell her they love her, too. But she already knows.
Heading inside the flat, Anika attempts to help them sort out the brunch stuff they’ve brought but they shoo her away.
‘How’s your appetite?’ Shameeka asks as Anika hovers in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame. She’s still tired but reminds herself it’s inevitable given all the shit coursing around her veins.
‘It’s there,’ she says with a shrug, and smiles as Shamz inspects her from head to toe. ‘Yes, I will sit down in a sec,’ she adds, before her friend can comment. ‘Bit of nausea occasionally, but I’m still down to eat.’
Tina is bent down low, clanging about in the cupboard to find a frying pan. Straightening up, she purses her lips as she examines its scratched ‘non-stick’ surface. ‘I know what I’m getting you for Christmas,’ she mutters, then clears her throat. ‘Did you say Wendy’s coming by, too? I like that chick, you know.’
Anika laughs. ‘Me too. Yeah, she should be here any minute,’ she says, then raises her hands in defeat as her friends usher her out of her kitchen. She and Wendy have been video-calling, but she hasn’t yet seen her face to face. Anika chews the inside of her cheek, a slight flutter of nerves skittering across her chest as she remembers everything she said. She’s avoided any real reckoning on that with Wendy during their calls so far. She exhales and calls back down the corridor. ‘What we saying,Mad Menrewatch, or—’
‘Real Housewives!’ Shameeka and Tina chime back in unison.
Anika snickers, rolling her eyes as she pads to the living room and burrows into the sofa. Seconds after she’s sat down, the buzzer goes again.
‘Got it,’ she shouts, getting up carefully and shuffling back to the front door to let Wendy in. She opens it to wait for her friend,already grinning as she hears Wendy mumbling to herself about the climb.
‘Bloody hell, darling, I need to do more Pilates or whatever. Christ,’ she says as she looks up and sees Anika leaning down into the stairwell, grinning.
‘I don’t think Pilates is really cardio-based. Plus, if I can manage it in this state, you can, eh?’
Wendy gives an exaggerated puff-and-lean routine on the banister at the top of the stairs, hair in a messy bun and dressed head to toe in what looks like an unassuming black hoodie and leggings, but her clothing winks with a subtle Balenciaga logo, matching her trainers. She goes over to embrace Anika in a tight hug, growling happily. ‘Look at you, babe! Only you could have chemo and still look this fucking good. I brought champs,’ she adds, gesturing with a bottle.
