by Anita Waller
‘You won’t be in pain when you first wake up, but by about the third day you will be. You will be given suitable painkillers to take home. The pain, of course, comes from everything starting to settle back down, not from anything going wrong. I suggest you take it easy for a couple of weeks, then start to resume your normal routines. Do you have any questions?’
‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘When do I get the results?’
‘Saturday morning. Whatever I remove tomorrow will go straight to the lab. The email will be waiting for me when I arrive Saturday. Is there anything else?’
‘No, I don’t think so. If there is, I’ll ask a nurse. I just want it over with, it’s a scary word, malignant.’
‘It is,’ Robson conceded, ‘but a lot of progress has been made in the treatment of cancer, and particularly with melanoma. Just trust me, I’ll do everything I can for you. And the follow-up care lasts for about seven years.’
‘Seven years!’ There was shock in her voice.
‘Yes, initially we give you two appointments three months apart, then we give you six-month appointments to take you to the two-year mark. After that it is annual until we feel all danger is gone. That’s usually an additional five years, but if there’s any concern you come back immediately. For oncology patients, it’s a kind of open house.’
Claudia leaned back in the chair and smiled. ‘Thank you. I feel a bit more at ease now I’ve spoken to you. I hadn’t a clue what you’d said when we left the other day. Luckily Heather, my friend who was there, remembered most of it. We did a bit of research yesterday, but it’s better from the horse’s mouth, isn’t it?’
Robson stood. ‘You’ll be fine. We’ll take good care of you. I’ll see you in the morning. You’re first on my list, eight o’clock.’
‘Thank you.’ Claudia stood and shook his hand. ‘I won’t say this hasn’t been a shock, but I feel as though I’m in safe hands.’
A quarter of an hour later, Heather was with her. She looked pale and unhappy.
Claudia stood and pulled her into her arms. ‘Okay?’ she whispered.
‘No.’
‘Come on, let’s go for a coffee while I’m still able to escape.’ Claudia grabbed her purse, and they walked down the corridor to the bank of lifts.
Once seated, and cradling cardboard cups of coffee, Heather insisted on knowing what Robson had said. Claudia repeated as much as she could recall but added that she now felt better about the whole thing.
‘And Owen? Talk to me, Heather, don’t hide it.’
‘It wasn’t him. I mean, of course it was him, but it didn’t look like my Owen. His face was bloated and completely white. They have confirmed accidental death, and I can now organise the funeral. I’ve already contacted the funeral director, because I don’t want Owen to be in that awful place any longer than he has to. They’re going to collect him this afternoon. I’ve now got the death certificate, so tomorrow morning I’ll contact the insurance companies. I’m going to the funeral director’s Tuesday, but I want you back to normal so I’m delaying it for a couple of weeks.’
‘Insurance companies?’
‘Yes, we’re both well insured. I’ll certainly be able to pay off the mortgage, which is a massive relief.’
‘Will you go back to the house?’
‘What, and live next door to your apology for a husband?’ She smiled at Claudia. ‘Not an earthly. He’d never leave me alone. Besides, I kinda like living in our flat, it’s comfortable, warm, cosy. And nobody knows we’re there. Suits me.’
‘You selling it then… the house?’
‘Don’t know yet. I tried to think about it when I was in bed last night, but I’m not good at big decisions. I’m seriously considering keeping it for my pension pot. I could let it out fully furnished, but we need stuff, don’t we?’
Claudia grinned. ‘Choose your tenants wisely. A bunch of teenagers all sharing the rent, and all being allowed to bring their own music systems should do nicely. And we can afford to buy a suite. Leave yours in your house, or else we’ll be reminded of Owen’s death every time we look at it. I’ll miss him too, you know. He was funny. And when James and Owen got together and began clowning around, I used to cry with laughter. Remember the holiday in Crete with those ridiculous hats they bought? That was pre-Ella…’
There was a moment of silence as each of them let their minds remember the tiny baby. With her birth and death, so much had changed.
Claudia shook her head. ‘Enough. Let’s get this damn operation over with and start our new life. I’ve been thinking about that small bedroom. We could put a couple of desks in there, make it our office. Get some shelving in it – you’ve seen all my books.’
‘I sort of like the idea of books in the lounge. It’s a massive room and can certainly take some posh bookshelves, and then we can pretend to be knowledgeable smart-arses because we read!’
Claudia laughed. ‘Whatever. As long as they’ve something to stand on, I don’t care. What do you think to the office idea?’
‘I think it’s great. We both use computers a lot, and if we’re setting it up properly, I want a desktop.’
They continued to discuss plans, and eventually headed back up to the ward, Claudia reassured that Heather had cheered up somewhat. She had tasked her with getting two desks and matching filing cabinets, then sent her home just after five with instructions to call at Ikea and organise them.
Heather blew her a kiss from the ward entrance, and Claudia climbed on to the bed for the first time. She felt tired; it occurred to her it was more than tiredness, it was exhaustion. Her eyes closed, and a nurse appeared to take her blood pressure.
‘A little high,’ she said, ‘but that’s probably because of tomorrow. Now make sure you eat all your evening meal, because after that you’re nil by mouth. Sips of water only after six.’
High blood pressure? Cancer? It had certainly been a rough week as far as her health was concerned, and she wondered just how James would have reacted if she’d told him.
Claudia and Heather had looked on the Leeds City Council website the previous evening, searching for a councillor called Marilyn, but it was a fruitless mission. There had been nobody. Maybe Marilyn was the young helper who needed constant reassurance as James had explained; but she didn’t think so, her instincts told her otherwise.
The evening meal arrived, and Claudia looked at it knowing she had to eat it. It was almost too much effort, and she was truly grateful when the last spoonful of ice cream disappeared.
She took out her book and within two minutes was asleep.
At eight, they woke her, checked her blood pressure and gave her a sleeping pill.
She showered quickly, slipped on her pyjamas and settled down for the night. Her blood pressure, still slightly raised but not enough to cause concern, was checked twice through the night; she was aware but too tired to care.
Half past six came, and her eyes slowly opened. Once again, her blood pressure was checked, and her pre-med given to her. She was beautifully drowsy by the time she was transported to theatre an hour later.
The nurse held the bowl under her mouth as she was violently sick. She finally laid her head back and smiled weakly.
‘That’s the third time. Is everybody like this?’
‘No, my love, you’re just unlucky. I’m going to give you something now that will settle it.’
‘Thank you,’ Claudia whispered.
‘Are you in pain?’
‘No, just a bit uncomfortable. I don’t need pain relief yet.’
‘I’ll bring you some.’
If Claudia had had the energy, she would have shaken her head in disbelief. Why bother asking if they were going to give it anyway?
She glanced at the ward clock and was surprised to see it was nearly three. She had half expected to see Heather waiting for her but realised she didn’t know if anything had cropped up in the Owen situation. Her eyes began to close, and suddenly Heather was there.
She placed
the little blue plastic chair by Claudia’s side, leaned over and kissed her. ‘You smell of sick.’
‘Not surprised.’ Claudia smiled at her friend.
‘You okay?’
‘No. Been sick three times. Why are you late?’
‘I rang to check you were back from theatre about one, and they said no. You were still in recovery because you hadn’t come around properly from the anaesthetic. They advised waiting a couple of hours, so here I am. You moaning at me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, okay. So, how are you?’
‘Sick. Not in pain though. I’ve just had something to stop the sickness, and some painkillers. Feel drowsy, so I’m sorry if I nod off. You brought me some grapes?’
‘Yes.’ Heather bent down and retrieved a tub of melon and grapes from her bag. ‘Thought you might like these if you can’t manage a meal yet.’
‘You’re a star.’ Claudia’s voice faded away, and Heather smiled.
‘Close your eyes. I’ll just sit here and read. I promise I’ll still be here when you wake.’
Claudia nodded, and seconds later had drifted into sleep.
Heather put the fruit in her locker, and settled down with her book, feeling glad that she’d thought to collect a coffee as she came through the hospital.
There were a couple of moans from Claudia as she slept, caused by her attempting to move in her sleep, and Heather stood each time. She’d never seen her friend wiped out like this; it had been bad when Ella had died, and they had cried in each other’s arms so many times, but this was different. This was illness, serious illness. She prayed it would all have been taken care of, and that they could get on with rebuilding their lives.
Claudia woke once; she stayed awake for ten minutes and then drifted off again. One of the nurses checked her blood pressure and suggested Heather go home.
‘She’ll be like this all day. Come back tomorrow, she’ll be a lot livelier, and she’ll have her results.’
‘I’ll leave her a note – make sure she gets it, will you, please?’
‘Leave it on her bed table. I’ll see to it.’
She scribbled a few words, then headed down the ward. Time to go home and erect the second desk.
James was angry. He’d had to fend off questions from Zoe and Harry, both wanting to know what their mother had given as her reasons for leaving him, and he hadn’t been able to show them the note. Claudia hadn’t pulled any punches with her words; in fact, she had referred to punches several times.
They wanted to know if she had another man; he had said no, but she appeared to have another woman. They had been quite scathing in their reply to that one, saying they knew exactly why Heather had walked away and it wasn’t because she was having an affair with their mother.
James had no idea where his errant wife had settled. He needed to speak to her and she was ignoring all his calls. Heather, likewise, was blanking him. He needed to spot Claudia’s car; they must be using that, because the Gower car was still on their drive where Owen had drunkenly parked it.
He took out the pizza and looked at it. Singularly unappetising. He had one slice and threw the rest in the bin. Grabbing his coat, he stormed out of the front door, his anger increasing by the second. Bloody woman. He’d find her and let her know just how unacceptable her actions were – before he dragged her home.
He drove around the area, up and down every little street; he found only one car in deep blue, a Renault, and then it began to get too dark to see the colours.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he said, and hit the steering wheel. This wasn’t the way. He’d find her somehow… and then he remembered the funeral. She would be there; he would force himself to be pleasant, to ask her to go for a drink with him and talk things through. He had stopped on a side road to think through his next move; it was to put on his right indicator and to pull away, then head for home.
As he turned left at the end of the road, he didn’t notice the little blue car that entered the road from the other end, nor did he notice Heather getting out of it after parking up.
‘Your dad’s an angry man,’ David said, and pulled Zoe towards him. She sank into the warmth of his body and nodded.
‘I know. Is there something we’re not aware of that’s happened between them?’ She lifted her face to his.
‘There’s a lot wrong in the relationship,’ he said. ‘I worry that you’re too close to see it. Your mum has too many bruises, and you can see fear on her face, can sense it when you walk in the house. And yet…’ he hesitated, ‘I was still surprised that she left. I see it every day in my job, Zoe, women just like your mum. But most of them are women who are scared to stand up for themselves, brow-beaten by life, by too many children, by drugs. Your mum doesn’t fit into any of these categories.’
Zoe was staring at him. ‘What are you saying? That Dad beats her? That’s utter rubbish. He’s never lifted a finger to me…’
‘That’s you, sweetheart. Your mum had a corker of a bruise coming, when we called round the other Saturday. She didn’t walk into any door, yet another door by the way, and she knew I knew. He hits her, and she’s had enough. I reckon that’s the top and bottom of this.’
‘No…’ Zoe’s cry was drawn out and full of anguish.
‘When we find her, you ask her. And don’t pussyfoot around, ask her the question. Did my dad hit you? That’s all you need to say. And you’ll know from her face. Even if she denies it, you’ll know the truth.’
‘But why has she never said anything? You think Heather knew?’
David could sense Zoe was coming around to his thinking. ‘Yes, Heather was her best friend. She would know. And they’re off somewhere safe together now. Heather will protect her until she recovers from everything, but unfortunately Heather won’t be in a good place, either. She left Owen, but I suspect if he’d stopped drinking, they wouldn’t have split up. And now it’s too late.’
‘Does Harry know? Have you said anything to him?’
‘No. I’ve only spoken to you. I’m not sure how Harry would take it. I knew you would recognise that I’m right. I see so many domestic abuse cases, Zoe, that they’re really easy to spot. And the women never fight back. We could prosecute, but they rarely want to take that step. I don’t know whether it’s from fear, or whether they can’t live without the dickhead who’s hit them. They see our police car turn up, and they panic. It’s serious when we appear, and they chicken out of even making a statement.’
‘Poor Mum. If only we’d known. Harry would have done something…’
‘What? What could he have done? It’s not easy interfering in a marriage, don’t forget. I let your mum know that if she needed us, we were there for her, in a couple of little ways. Maybe it’s the reason she left, the fact that I’d recognised she had problems. We’ll know when we find her.’
‘Somebody knows where she is.’ Zoe spoke slowly.
‘Who?’
‘Whoever attended the Gower house when Dad discovered Owen. They must have gone to wherever Mum and Heather are, to tell Heather. They wouldn’t tell her over the phone, would they?’
‘No, they definitely wouldn’t. I’m not risking my job for this, but I’ll see if I can find out anything at work. Now come on, it’s time for bed. And we’ll talk to Harry and Emma tomorrow, when we see them. It’ll be strange without your mum and dad there, but we’re celebrating, with or without them.’
Chapter 11
‘Mrs Bell?’
Claudia turned her head slightly and saw Robson. She moved the sick bowl away from her, hoping it wouldn’t be necessary any more. The anti-sickness medication clearly hadn’t worked, and to make matters worse, she was now in considerable discomfort – not screaming pain, but she guessed it could very soon become that.
‘Mr Robson.’ Claudia knew she looked a mess, but she couldn’t have cared less. It was his fault she looked like this anyway.
He stood by the side of the bed and waited while his registrar pulled the curtai
ns around to give them a bit more privacy. She thought it was a joke, she’d heard everything that was going on at the other beds on Thursday.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘There’s a problem. The cancer has spread, it was present in the lymph nodes we took. We’re now going to refer you to the oncology hospital at Weston Park. They will do scans and x-rays to see if it has remained in the lymph glands or if it has spread elsewhere.’
She looked at both men, then at the nurse standing at the end of the bed. ‘What? I have cancer?’
‘Not necessarily,’ Robson’s soothing tones cut in. ‘We may have removed it all by taking the sensible step of excising the lymph nodes, in which case you will need no further treatment. The fact that it had spread that far means that we must check everywhere to ensure it hasn’t moved on. Weston Park is the specialist hospital, as you know, and they will check with everything at their disposal to make sure you are cancer free. We check for cancer, but we also check for freedom from cancer.’
As he asked if she had any more questions, she looked at the nurse. ‘Yes, I do. Can I have some more pain relief, please?’
Heather looked stunned. Nothing could have prepared her for this. That tiny little grape-like protuberance could potentially kill Claudia?
‘I’m not sure how long I can stay awake,’ Claudia said.
Heather squeezed her hand. ‘Then sleep. I’ll sit here and read and fend off nurses with blood pressure machines, if I can.’
She opened her book but couldn’t follow the words. She was having difficulty thinking and wished with all her heart that she had been here for the early morning consultant round. Even if Claudia hadn’t asked questions, she would have.