“Harriet. Have you had an operation before?”
I shook my head and wondered how scared I looked. “Have you?”
“When I was little so I don’t really remember it, but I’ve been to this ward loads. They’re really nice here, so you’ll be okay. I’ll be here too. What are you having done?” She crossed her legs and pulled her hair back.
“I have a hole in the heart. It should only need one operation. Can I sit down?” I pointed to the grey hospital chair.
“Course. I have a condition called Tetralogy of Fallot. I could probably teach lessons on it I know so much about it, but I won’t bore you.”
“Will you need more operations after this?” I wondered how that felt, if it got easier coming into a hospital ward for an operation.
“One more for sure. Then it’ll depend on how lucky I am. How old are you?”
We stopped talking about hearts, although it was a subject we came back to often as we grew up, and not just about our health. Boys, boyfriends, lovers. There were many ways for a heart to be broken, and not just because of medical reasons. Harriet was in the year above me at school, just as bookish as I was, and we liked some of the same books. During my hospital stay, we sat together reading, not needing to chat constantly, swapping books when we were done, rueing endings and sharing book hangovers.
Fallon turned up in our lives the day of my operation, rushed in as an emergency and secreted away in a room by herself, away from the four bed ward that me and Harriet were on. We saw the faces of the nurses and heard cries from Fallon’s mother, learning Fallon’s name before she was even conscious to discover our existence.
She nearly died. We heard why – Transposition of the Great Arteries – although it sounded more like a Jules Verne novel than a medical condition, and we didn’t look it up because itscared us. But Fallon lived, surprising everyone, although that first stay wasn’t when we met her for real.
We did meet Erin though. She had been another emergency, collapsing at school again, only this time it was more serious. She had open heart surgery five days after admission, and I came back to visit her after I’d been discharged, because all it took was a few hours the day after she came in to forge a friendship that I suspected would only expire after we all had.
I knew Harriet moving wouldn’t mean I’d lose contact with her. If anything, I’d see and speak to her more because we’d make time for it, not being able to rely on evenings where we’d binge watch something crap on Netflix and give one word muttering because both of us were too exhausted after dealing with people all day.
Weekends in Stratford-Upon-Avon would be a pleasure, and I knew Harriet would be back to London when the mood took her, or there was a play or show on that she wanted to see. We would be okay. Our friendship could weather the pull of distance.
“I need to make those boxes up.”
I jumped, not realising Harriet had been stood in the doorway to the lounge watching me.
“Give a girl a warning.” I put my hand on my heart, the gesture the four of us would do when we wanted to be dramatic. “That could’ve been another hospital stay.”
She laughed and came closer, leaning against the wall. “You’ve barely said anything about me moving away.”
“I know. I’m sorry – I should’ve been more excited for you.” I felt about that. I knew she was thrilled about the job and the opportunity, and of moving out of London too, wanting a change of scenery.
“You will be. In a few months. It’s weird for me too. Shall I do a pot of tea?”
I followed her into the kitchen, putting on the kettle while she got out a tea pot and strainer, taking out the jar of tea leaves that would taste like Victoria sponge when they’d brewed.
It was Harriet’s favourite blend; she was particular about her tea, not really a coffee drinker, but she was sparing with it.
This meant she wanted to have a serious chat.
“It doesn’t change things overall, me moving,” she said, not looking at me as she got out two mugs and the milk from the fridge. “We’ll probably talk most nights. You’ll have a spare room for your books that Georgia’s been nagging you to bring over.”
My mother had been having a clear out. I expected they were going to downsize now my youngest brother had permanently moved out – or rather, they were downsizing before he could move back in.
“I haven’t really thought about what I’m going to do with the room.”
“Liar.” She poured the boiling water into the teapot, not splashing a single drop.
“Fair. I probably will turn it into a library.”
“Which is exactly what I’ll do with one of my spare rooms. The other I’m keeping as a guest room for when you come and stay.”
“Which I will do.”
“I know.” She studied the tea pot. It was glass and she would examine the colour of the water until it was ready to pour the first cup. “I found a photo of you and Carter when I was packing.”
