‘Seen,’ Kwame said. He stood again and took a couple of strides towards her. Anika tensed. ‘Do you reckon you can drink this?’ He nodded at the sink. ‘Man’s thirsty, you know.’
She shrugged, then her shoulders rose and fell as her breathing deepened at Kwame’s proximity. She scooted over as he turned on the tap and tested the coolness of the water with one finger. When he was satisfied, he leant over and tilted his mouth under it, glugging greedily. Anika realised she was staring, so looked away as he straightened up with a satisfied, ‘Ahh!’ Then he gestured at the still-running tap and looked at her.
Anika shook her head, then felt a small smirk form on her lips. ‘Trying not to need the loo, innit.’
He froze, smiling too. ‘Shit.’
‘And you’re not pissing in the sink,’ she added, and then clenched her jaw, surprised at herself.
He let out another loud, ‘Hah!’
Tired of standing herself, Anika pushed a couple of boxes of laundry powder aside and hopped up onto the top-load washing machine to sit.
‘Ah hah!’ Kwame said. ‘Budge up.’
She’d barely moved to one side before he leapt up beside her. He was mostly sitting on the machine next to her, but part of one of his thighs was balancing on the side of the sink. Not seeming to notice the tension of her muscles as she felt the heat of his body all down her right-hand side, Kwame sighed exaggeratedly and leant his head back against the wall. She risked a glance over at him and saw that his eyes were closed.
‘What a night, man,’ he said. His deep voice rumbled against her. He added in a murmur, ‘What a week. What a year.’
Anika wasn’t quite sure what he meant, but his face seemedserious. ‘Yeah,’ she agreed softly.
He couldn’t have had any idea quite how much the statement resonated.
Chapter Six
Tuesday 3rd July
‘Fuuuucking Overground delays,’ Tina exclaims as soon as she walks into the hospital room later that day, dumping her bag on the floor and rushing over to Anika’s bed to crush her into a hug. Her delicate features are creased into a frown, her dark skin smooth even with minimal make-up, and the soft hairs of her long, kinky-straight wig tickle Anika’s nose as she inhales the familiar floral scent of her friend’s perfume. ‘How are we doing?’ she asks, walking over to where Shameeka is sitting on the sole plastic chair, pecking her friend on the cheek and then perching on her knee. ‘I’m not heavy, am I?’
Shameeka exchanges an exaggerated raised-eyebrow look at Anika, then playfully squeezes Tina’s thighs. ‘You know I like ’em thick.’ They all laugh as Tina slaps Shamz’s wrists.
‘I’m good,’ Anika tells her. ‘Just, you know. Waiting it out.’
Tina nods, then glances at her Apple watch. ‘Shit, it’s kick-out time on visiting hours soon, yeah? Sorry I couldn’t go and fetch your laptop, hon. I had to wait for that bloody drinks delivery at work. I thought being a manager would mean less of that shit …’
Anika waves a hand in the air. ‘I’ve got my phone, babe, I can manage. I’ll probably be loopy tomorrow anyway, with any luck.’
‘Have they said yet if the surgery’s been scheduled?’ Tina asks.
‘Not yet,’ Shamz answers, giving Anika a reassuring smile. She left her office early to hang out – the perks of her high rank in the PR company she works for, presumably. ‘By the way,’ Shamzcontinues. ‘Don’t surgeons usually go by “Mr” not “Dr”? How come that Elachy guy doesn’t?’
‘I reckon if I’d earned a PhD and whatnot, I’d want everyone to know about it, too,’ Anika says musingly. Even as they joke some more, a wave of nostalgia hits her for a time when the three of them were almost worry-free.
To be fair, she never knew Shameeka not to have her shit together. They met at a book signing for a memoir by legendary chanteuse Chaka Khan. Anika was convinced the icon’s publicist must have made a mistake in having the book tour stop in Coventry, and she and Shamz were by far the youngest in the queue, but Anika knew immediately that this was a woman with impeccable taste. They struck up a conversation and realised they were both at uni nearby. Shameeka was doing a Master’s in Communication, while Anika was in the second year of her media and creative studies degree. Both shared reservations about their experiences at the university and quickly formed a powerful bond. Tina was Shamz’s childhood friend, so they soon folded Anika into their tribe when they were all back in London. Having grown up without siblings, Anika was so grateful to have these women in her life who felt like sisters.
She sighs at the memories, which causes her friends to turn towards her with concerned looks. ‘I’m good. Sorry. All of this is justlong.’ Anika lightens up, letting out a snicker. ‘I mean, the cruelty of having a surgical scar to contend with right when we’re going into crop top season!’
‘Babes. Please.’ Tina breaks into a grin. ‘I’ve got nightgowns shorter than the tops I’ve seen you wear.’
They all laugh again, but worry hovers over them, plucking away at their mirth. The nurse lets them know that visiting hours are over for today, and Anika savours the love of her friends as they hug her goodbye.
Even though Shamz brought over a couple of books, or shecould watch Netflix on her phone if she wanted to, Anika instead pulls out her earphones again, queues up Erykah Badu’sMama’s Gunalbum and skips past the aggressive funk of ‘Penitentiary Philosophy’ to get to the next track, settling in to hear Ms Badu croon about stopping to observe her emotions on ‘Didn’t Cha Know’. Anika feels like that’s what she’s doing – watching all her strange, frantic, whirling feelings assail her mind from a distance. But this isn’t happening to someone else. Squeezing her lids shut, she tries to imagine what’s happening inside her body, willing it to be well and …
Anika’s eyes fling open again as she feels someone looming over her. She startles, pulling her earbuds out as she catches her breath, but it’s just a nurse. Somehow dusk has settled. She must have dropped off to sleep.
The nurse’s pale, round face glows moonlike in the low light of the room. ‘Sorry, dear, I didn’t notice you were listening to something!’ She checks the drip of antibiotics going into Anika’s vein. ‘I was saying, how are you getting on? You don’t have any pain, do you.’ Less a question, more a statement. Anika purses her lips at the assumption she’s not hurting, which often seems the case for some reason she doesn’t want to examine too hard right now. ‘More obs, I’m afraid,’ the nurse continues. ‘And actually, I’m told Dr Elachy is just on his way to have a chat with you …’
Anika sits up in the bed quickly. ‘Er, the doctor’s coming now?’ she asks, wondering if something is wrong. The nurse nods, slipping the pressure cuff around Anika’s arm and then yawning open the small blood-oxygen monitor to clamp shut around her fingertip.
