Switched-on, smart women, who’d all fallen for lies and manipulation.
Like them, she’d made that mistake.And what if lightning really could strike twice?
Was it the significance of today’s date that was putting all her nerves just a little too close to her skin today?Or was it the fact that there was so much scar tissue around her heart that she wasn’t ready to open it again yet?Or should she just take the bloody plunge and tell Jack how she felt and what she wanted?
Why wasn’t any of this adulting stuff easy?And shouldn’t she have worked it all out by her age?
She was as sure as she could be about Jack, but what if she was wrong again?Why take that chance?If only there was an instruction manual to all of this.Or a roadmap.Some kind of sign as to what she should do.Yep, that was what she needed.Some kind of divine sign from the heavens.Although, she very much doubted that she was going to get answers to anything by doubting herself, her relationship, and her personal decisions while she was standing in a packed ward with someone drunkenly singing ‘Wonderwall’ from behind one of the curtains.
Her professionalism stuck a temporary pin in her personal turmoil, as she sprung into action.Deciding to lighten Caleb’s load, she gathered up the chart for bay number four and made her way across the war zone, trying to ignore the rising sense of impending doom.As she pulled back the curtain, she saw a clearly intoxicated woman dressed all in white, a lopsided veil on top of her head, a smashed bouquet of flowers lying on the floor beside her, her bruised, swollen ankle elevated on a pillow, pulling a bottle of vodka out of her bag.
‘I decided I didn’t want to get married, so I did a runner,’ the woman explained, a tad unnecessarily.
Bernadette sighed.Bollocks.It was definitely a sign.
She just wasn’t sure if she wanted to believe it.
6
MARGE
Marge only realised that she’d dozed off when she woke up and saw that the light had changed a little in the room.That happened a lot now.She’d close her eyes for a second, and then there would be a time jump – minutes, sometimes hours that she’d missed.It was just another one of life’s cruelties.Her time was running out, yet sleep was snatching it from her with no warning or apology.
And worse, she lost even more time because she had to rewind her mind to wherever it had been before she drifted off.She flicked back through the Rolodex of her brain until it landed on the correct page.The date.Yes.That’s where her thoughts had been.Today was the date that she had somewhere to be.Where people could help her with the last thing she had to do while she still had time.
She shifted her gaze to the side of her bed, where Estelle was sketching on her design pad, lost in her work, completely oblivious to the fact that Marge was awake, and with no cognisance whatsoever that today was going to change her life.
‘Estelle…’ she whispered and watched as her daughter lifted her head and smiled.
‘Hey, Mum.You drifted off…’
‘I know.I’m sorry.’
Estelle leaned forward and covered her hand with hers again.‘You don’t ever need to be sorry.’
Marge wanted to tell her she was so wrong.She had so much to be sorry for.
‘My phone…?’Marge asked the question, her throat hurting as she forced the words out.This was why she couldn’t do this alone.Couldn’t say all the things that Estelle needed to hear.
‘You want your phone now?’Estelle checked.
Marge nodded, then managed, ‘Please.’
Estelle had a quick scan of the bed, then got up and went over to the bedside cabinet.Nothing on top, so she opened the top drawer.‘Here it is, Mum, but it’s dead.Do you want me to charge it?’
Marge nodded, then watched as Estelle pulled a charging cable out of the same drawer and plugged it in.Okay.As soon as it had enough charge, she could make calls, put a plan in place.
‘Do you want anything, Mum?A drink?Something to eat?I could cut a piece off the cake I brought in for you?’
Marge shook her head.‘Thank you, darling, but I’m fine.’Food hurt to swallow and seemed so pointless now.She could barely taste it – another casualty of the chemo, or the radiotherapy, or the surgery.She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Estelle got comfortable on the chair again, her legs pulled up under her, the same way she’d sat since she was a child.
Marge took the kind of low slow breath that she needed before she pushed out words.‘Estelle, you don’t have to spend all your days here.’Another breath.‘It’s not fair.I want you to enjoy your life.’
‘Mum, there’s absolutely nowhere else I want to be.Just here.With you.’
It should have been a comfort to hear that, but the opposite was true.It was the thing that Marge worried about, that she fretted over most.Only couple of years ago, Estelle’s life had been busy and full of fun.There was her boyfriend, Craig, and of course there was Amber, Estelle’s best friend for as long as Marge could remember.The girls were inseparable, socialised together, went on holiday together, spent all their time together.But then there had been a fallout and Marge had been so sure they’d get over it, but they never had.She could only hope that they would find their way back to each other because Estelle was going to need a friend to support her after Marge was gone.
