Hayley was shaking as she watched him, completely transfixed, everyone else in the room fading away. He knew the results of his test and he was stood on the stage pouring his heart out to a room full of strangers whose only connection was the failed health of someone they were close to.
Angel slipped her hand into hers, twisting her small fingers into the gaps to bond them tight as Oliver started to speak again.
‘I put work ahead of everything else. I wanted to waste my life on exuberance, because, without my brother, without my father, it all seemed pointless.’
Hayley watched Oliver look out into the crowd and she shifted on her chair, leaning forward a little, wanting to meet his eyes. Finally, their vision connected and she offered him a tentative smile, her eyes welling up with tears.
‘And then something changed,’ he said. ‘I met someone.’
‘It’s you!’ Angel whispered loudly, removing her hand from Hayley’s and doing jazz hands.
Hayley batted her vibrating fingers away, her attention solely on Oliver.
‘This person came into my life like a tornado – completely unexpected, going a hundred miles an hour and whirling up a whole lot of crazy.’ He took a breath. ‘And she saved me from myself without really even knowing it.’
Her heart contracted at his words. They were food to her soul, warming everything.
‘Just being with her made me see that I didn’t want my life to be meaningless any more. I couldn’t carry on treating my staff like crap, ignoring my mother because she reminded me of the family I’d lost, being emotionally absent from every single day. I had to make peace with what had happened, I had to embrace whatever future I had and I had to make the most of every minute. With the people I care about.’
The first tears were falling and she tried to push them back into her eyes with her fingers. She knew then what he was telling her. He had the same condition as Ben. It was confirmed. But he was now going to suck the life out of every moment he had left. With her.
‘The McArthur Foundation isn’t something to be feared; it’s something to be very proud of. With your donations and your publicity and your volunteering efforts round the clock, you’ve raised millions of pounds for essential research into all kinds of life-limiting illnesses and diseases. You’ve also funded the very first holiday home for bereaved families to go spend some time together after they’ve lost a loved one. I’m in awe of everything you’ve achieved this year. Thank you so much for your continued support.’ He put his hands together in applause and the crowd followed his action, all clapping their appreciation.
Hayley sniffed, wiping her nose on her arm as she stopped clapping.
‘So, without further ado, I want to introduce someone special to you all… the designer of the logo for the fundraiser tonight which is now going to become the logo of the McArthur Foundation. Miss Angel Walker.’
Hayley spun round to look at Angel. ‘What the… are you…’
‘Relax, Mum, I’ll give you credit for the slogan,’ Angel said, slipping out of her chair as the crowd began to clap again.
A sob of pride slipped out as she watched Angel move through the tables, the spotlight picking out the sequins on the silver party dress she had jazzed up with beads and diamantes yesterday. Angel mounted the stairs and held her hand out to Oliver. He gave it a business-like shake.
Angel put a clenched fist to her mouth and cleared her throat. She leant into the microphone like a professional. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the new logo for the McArthur Foundation and the new slogan. My mum helped with that, by the way.’ Angel paused until the audience were quiet. ‘Every single beat.’
The big screen behind them flashed on and Angel’s butterfly drawing had been turned into a platinum and turquoise graphic, its wings beating and flexing. With a bang like fireworks going off, thousands of glittering butterfly shapes began to fall from the ceiling of the room and people started to exclaim. There were joyous cries and hundreds of hands clapped together as the room was filled with as much thudding and stamping as a football stadium.
Oliver spoke over the noise. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the McArthur Foundation isn’t about grief, it’s about courage. And just like the butterfly, some of us might not get long in this world, but we need to make sure that every single beat counts. Thank you.’
There was a roar of appreciation and people began to bang the tables with their hands, knock cutlery against glasses, anything they could to get their emotions across.
Hayley couldn’t wait any longer. She pushed past chairs, slipping her body past tables and clapping guests to get to the front of the room. Oliver was coming off the stage with Angel, Cynthia hot on his heels. She needed to know. She just needed to hear the words from his mouth and she would deal with it.
Oliver could see her heading towards him in the dress he’d ordered for her. It was perfect and she had never looked more beautiful, her sleek, dark hair shifting as she hurried past people, her eyes wide, those pert lips slicked with pink gloss.
‘Oliver, please,’ Cynthia begged.
‘Remember your promise,’ Angel said, tugging at Oliver’s jacket. ‘Proper dancing.’
He smiled at her. ‘I haven’t forgotten.’
Hayley rushed the last few steps and practically threw herself at him. ‘Tell me, God damn it. Tell me right now! I’m ready for it; whatever they said, I can handle it.’
Oliver could see the tears were leaking from her eyes and he looked away, towards his mother, reaching for her hand. He pulled Angel in close and took Hayley’s hand before he dragged in a breath that seem to take a long time to fill his lungs.
‘I don’t have the gene.’
‘Oh my God! Oh my God!’ Hayley looked to the ceiling. ‘I can’t believe it! Thank you, thank you!’ She threw her arms around him, clinging to him like a boa constrictor.
