The Last Good Day

by Hannah Pearl

  ‘Knock knock.’

  ‘I’m hiding under the duvet. You can’t knock on a duvet.’

  ‘That’s why I said it instead.’ Dave lifted the covers and joined me underneath. ‘I brought you tea.’

  I took the mug he offered. Using our heads as tent poles, we managed to create a space and sit side by side on our bed.

  ‘Am I really going to do this?’ I asked him with a mock shudder, even though we both knew full well that I was.

  ‘Do you want to change your mind?’

  ‘She’d kill me.’

  Dave chuckled.

  She wouldn’t. For all her faults – impulsiveness to the point of recklessness being his least favourite – Belle would never do anything to hurt me. Deliberately. The broken arm I got when I was ten, after Belle nicked her brother’s roller skates and offered me a turn, was purely accidental.

  ‘She’s counting on you, Helen.’ I reached out to set my mug on the bedside cabinet, then leaned into him. As I did so, our duvet tent collapsed around us so Dave folded it back until it covered just our legs. I was relieved when he finished and put his arms around me again.

  ‘What if I get arrested?’ As unlikely as that seemed, if my history with Belle had taught me anything, it was to always expect the unexpected.

  ‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’ I felt his chest move against me as he laughed at the memories.

  ‘Will you bail me out?’

  ‘Always.’

  We scrabbled to get dressed. As apprehensive as I felt about the day ahead, I couldn’t risk being late. The shifts changed at 8 a.m. and, if I timed it well, I’d be able to sneak her out unnoticed.

  ***

  ‘I brought you a wig.’

  ‘Fuck ’em. If they can’t handle a bald chick in a wheelchair then that’s their problem.’ Belle swept the blonde curls out of my hand and onto the floor, where they landed to resemble a squished poodle.

  ‘Let’s take this with us.’ I gestured to the drip stand next to her bed.

  Belle stared at me. ‘Don’t you think taking that piece of scrap metal is going to get us spotted?’

  ‘Don’t you think me wheeling you out of here is a bit of a giveaway?’ As I spoke, I realized how true this was. There was no way I’d be able to get her out without being seen. I was about to panic and she must have sensed it.

  ‘Come on, Helen, I need to get out for a bit. I miss the sunshine. I want to see the sky again, the sea.’ I couldn’t bring myself to move. I wanted to give her a lovely day, but she looked so fragile.

  She wasn’t giving up so easily. ‘Can we please go before I die of old age?’

  The chance would have been a fine thing. My eyes filled with tears and I blinked them away. Belle needed me to be stronger than I felt at that moment.

  ‘I don’t care if they see us,’ she continued. ‘We’ll make something up. They’ll be too busy to worry about having one fewer patient for the afternoon.’

  She pouted, and I folded. The same way I had when we were younger and she wanted us to dye our hair blonde. Only, we’d gone swimming in the local pool after and it turned our hair a disturbing shade of green. I’d been due to meet Dave’s parents for the first time the next day. He hadn’t been best pleased.

  I lifted Belle from the bed and into the chair, taking care not to snag any wires or tubes. She was a lot lighter than the last time I’d had to carry her, when she had asked me for a piggyback after a night out. We’d been returning from our university bar and her high heels had rubbed, making it painful for her to walk. Mind you, we’d barely made it out the door before the rugby team had come along and hoisted her onto their shoulders, so perhaps that didn’t really count.

  Now though, the ovarian cancer, which had started almost imperceptibly – just a complaint from Belle about being bloated even though she felt less hungry than normal – had almost completely extinguished the spark from the most exciting person I had ever met. It was all the more reason to try to give her the most wonderful day that she could manage.

  I peeked around the door into the hall, but no one seemed to be watching what we were doing.

  Belle quickly began to remove the needle from the crook of her arm, wincing as she did. I tried to stop her, but she just stared at me. ‘Don’t worry so much. Hell’s Belles are overdue an adventure.’

  Her play on our teenage nickname, well-deserved as it had been, was enough to break through my fog and get us moving again. Taking the blue cotton throw from her bed, I wrapped it around her and tucked it in under her bony legs.

  I glanced hurriedly around the ward, but there were no staff in sight. ‘They’re in the office talking about who woke up crying in the night needing more medication, and who won’t make it till tomorrow.’ I wondered to myself which category Belle fell under.

  I tried my best to shake the thought. ‘Belle, stop talking like that. Now, come on.’

  ‘Good old dependable Helen.’

  That was me. I’d been right behind her when she had ordered our first drinks in a pub when we were sixteen. I had held her handbag after she had drunk one too many Bacardi Breezers and had to ring her dad to pick us up. She’d been grounded for a fortnight. I hadn’t. My parents knew that I wouldn’t get into any trouble if Belle wasn’t around. It had been the most boring two weeks of my life and I had missed her every second.

  I realized that I, too, needed this day, this adventure, with my friend. It had been a long few months, filled with chemo and tears – most of them mine – as Dave had held me while I cried after leaving my best friend alone on the ward yet again.

  I wanted to chase away those memories of treatments and pain and remember how it used to be, before that bastard cancer ripped a hole into the fabric of my heart.

  We were almost at the door of the ward when a voice rang out behind us.

  ‘Where are you two off to?’

  ‘They’ve asked me to go for a scan,’ Belle lied smoothly. The effort cost her though, and I noticed her head begin to droop. She forced it back upright and offered one of her trademark smiles to the nurse.

  She was still beautiful.

  ‘They’re expecting her for a CAT scan,’ I stammered. ‘In the MRI machine downstairs. Going to get an X-ray to see if they can work out what on earth is going on in her tiny brain.’

  The nurse looked at us both, gave a small smile and walked back towards the staffroom.

  ‘Do you think she believed us?’ I asked.

  ‘Do you want to hang around and risk finding out?’

  Belle made a good point. I followed her directions and in no time we made it through the myriad of corridors and crowds and out of the hospital.

  ‘I’m parked at the top of the multistorey.’

  ‘Was it that busy or was it the only place you could find a space big enough to squeeze your Mini in?’

  ‘Cheeky,’ I cautioned her. ‘You did want me to break you out, didn’t you?’

  ‘More than anything.’

  ‘Then hush while I put half of my paltry savings into one of these ticket machines so we can get out of here.’

  Belle took a moment to catch her breath, trying to hide the laboured movement of her chest underneath the blanket. But I knew.

  ‘Did you bring my handbag?’

  I handed it to her and she rummaged until she found her purse. ‘My debit card is in there. Use that.’

  ‘No, it’s okay. I was only joking. I can afford it, really.’

  ‘What am I going to do? Take my cash with me?’

  There was no arguing with that.

  I used Belle’s card to pay and we retrieved my car. ‘Consider me your trusty taxi driver. Now, where to?’

  Belle sat quietly for a moment. ‘Seaside might not be a gr
eat idea,’ she said quietly. ‘Too much traffic.’ I knew that really meant she didn’t feel well enough to travel so far, but neither of us wanted to acknowledge that fact.

  ‘Bar?’

  ‘Too loud to talk,’ she answered.

  ‘Pub?’

  ‘I always preferred bars myself.’ She smiled.

  I reached behind her to find the map book that Dave always insisted I carry in the car. ‘Let’s look for some inspiration.’

  And there, tucked between the pages, was a note.

  I plucked it out and Belle read it aloud. ‘Hell’s Belles Super Special Picnic. A space has been reserved for your party next to the lake.’

  Dave.

  He knew that Belle loved being by the water. He must have known she wouldn’t have the energy to make it to the beach. Not this time.

  We drove, and I sang along to the radio as we had on all our previous adventures in this car. Belle sat back and closed her eyes, smiling, but not joining in. I stopped, but she opened her eyes and watched me until I began again, missing the notes more often than I hit them, but she didn’t complain. For once.

  When we reached the park, she waited in the car until I retrieved her wheelchair from the boot and brought it round so that I could lift her into it. I wheeled her away from the cafe and the crowds of children outside, begging their parents for ice cream. Following the path over the bridge, past the weeping willow and on, we came to a picnic bench by the side of the water.

  On top sat a wicker basket.

  There was no note this time, but the bottle of Bacardi Breezer sticking out and Dave’s old blue coat next to it let me know that it was for us.

  I wrapped the jacket around Belle’s shoulders.

  Inside the basket were treats that Belle and I had enjoyed on our travels. Grapes, just like the time she had organized for us to spend the summer on a vineyard in Italy. A baguette, not quite as good as the still-warm ones we had picked up from the local boulangerie in Paris, but good enough with a chunk of Belle’s favourite Camembert. There was even a packet of Penguin biscuits and a thermos. It took a moment for my brain to understand, but finally it clicked: the Penguins were the poor man’s imitation of the Tim Tams we’d brought Dave back after Belle had organized our trip to Australia. It had been my twenty-first birthday present, to visit the Neighbours set and meet some of my heroes. Belle didn’t share my enjoyment of the programme, but she loved me enough to go, with only a minimum of asking whether I was serious.

  I poured Belle a cup of tea, added a few of the sugar sachets Dave had thoughtfully tucked underneath to give her a little more energy, and lifted the cup to her lips so that she could sip it.

  ‘If I’d had a bucket list, I think that having a proper cup of tea with my best mate would have been on there.’

  ‘Not bungee jumping naked or trying to sleep with your favourite celebrity?’

  ‘Again?’ She laughed. ‘I never needed the motivation of trying to finish a list before I go. If I wanted to do something, then I did it.’

  ‘I remember.’

  She stared deep into her mug, as if the wisdom she sought was buried in the tea. Perhaps it was. There must be a reason why we all head straight for a cuppa when something serious arises. ‘Did you ever regret spending time with me?’ she asked.

  I reached across and grasped her hand. It was cold, the skin dry like an old lady’s. ‘Never,’ I assured her. ‘You’ve been making my life better since you chased Steven Cooper away in primary school, do you remember? We couldn’t have been more than six. He’d been teasing me and pushing me over for weeks. All the teachers would say was, ‘It’s because he likes you’. Funny way to show it. I was so scared, you were the only person who understood and actually helped me. No, I wouldn’t change a thing.’

  Except that I’d have given anything to make her well again, because the unspoken question was how I was going to cope without her in the future. That was such a vast unknown that I pushed the thoughts away, unable to even begin to consider what a world without Belle might feel like.

  ‘You’d be one of those boring married couples by now, working nine-to-five jobs with no creativity, falling asleep on the sofa every evening next to a farting dog.’

  ‘I am married,’ I reminded her. It had been the one concession that she had allowed me to make: bringing our wedding forward to ensure that she was still well enough to enjoy it. ‘And whilst we’re talking about me and Dave, well, it’s traditional to wait until you pass the twelve-week mark, but I never did hide anything from you. I took the test yesterday.’

  Despite spending her early twenties getting through enough supplies to keep Durex afloat, she looked genuinely pleased to hear my news. ‘You’ll be a great mum. You kept me safe all of these years.’

  ‘Barely, and there’s a long way to go yet.’

  ‘I’m only sorry that I won’t be here to see it.’

  Belle had been angry when she first found out that her diagnosis was terminal; she hadn’t been ready to go. Recently, though, I could tell this had passed. I don’t know whether it was because she had come to terms with her illness, or that she had simply run out of energy to fight the inevitable. On the rare occasions she mentioned what was coming, it was usually only in terms of how it would impact on us. Her comment was a reminder that she was going to lose more than we were, and I felt guilty that I had been so wrapped up in myself that I hadn’t thought about how she might be coping.

  I tried to lighten the moment. It was what Belle would have done if she were in my shoes.

  ‘I’m pretty sure that what with all the dirty nappies and crying you’d have hated it.’

  ‘Too true. But enough about Dave, have you thought about what it’ll be like with a baby?’

  We both giggled. Despite the teasing, she loved Dave really. When we turned seventeen, she found a tattooist who was willing to break the law for her. Belle had got a butterfly, spreading its wings and embracing the sunshine for the first time. It was enormous, covering both shoulder blades and most of her back. I’d got a small red heart with Dave’s name on my hip. He’d pretended to be horrified that I’d had his name permanently etched on me, but secretly I knew that he was pleased. If I was Belle’s sensible side, then he was mine.

  ‘He’s already reading reviews of buggies and stocking up on parenting books.’

  ‘At least one of us is mature enough, then.’

  I laughed and let go of her hand to pour more tea. ‘You taught me well. I’ve never regretted anything – except maybe the time we got arrested trying to smuggle that pig into work,’ I told her.

  ‘She deserved it; shouldn’t have been so pig-headed towards her staff. Just so you know, I’m coming back as a ghost so that I can haunt anyone who upsets you.’

  ‘I’ll make a list.’

  ‘Will you name the baby after me?’

  ‘Not if it’s a boy. I want to avoid gender stereotyping, but that might be pushing it. Besides, I think Dave would have a heart attack if our daughter got up to half the things we used to.’

  ‘It was worth it.’

  ‘Totally. You encouraged me to apply to art school. You pushed me to not be scared, but to make the most of every opportunity. I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it hadn’t been for you.’

  ‘Time for one more mission?’

  ‘What did you have in mind? I have to warn you, though, if we get arrested, I’m totally dobbing you in. I’m not having my baby in prison.’

  Belle laughed again, and for just a moment I saw her as the sixteen-year-old girl who had encouraged me to go skinny-dipping with her in the very lake that lay ahead of us. She’d had a plan back then, too. She’d texted Dave without my knowing. I’d almost died of embarrassment when I got out to find him standing there, but sure enough he’d asked me out the next day and we had been together ever since.

  ‘One of the doctors has bad breath. Break into his car and leave him some mouth wash on the seat? Nah, too mean. Don’t worry, I’ll think o
f something.’

  I kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll carry the basket to the car and come back for you.’

  ‘I’m not moving.’ There was a tear on her cheek when I returned. She brushed it away and when I tried to ask if she wanted to talk, she refused. ‘Cry tomorrow. Today is for celebrating being together. You’ve been the sister I never had but always wanted.’

  I pushed her back to the car in her wheelchair, lifted her into the seat and fastened her seat belt. She let me fuss without saying a word.

  Talking about her feelings didn’t come easily. Belle had always preferred to show how she felt. She didn’t look at me again until I told her about my most recent midwife visit. I hadn’t screwed the lid on my urine sample properly and the bus driver hadn’t been too impressed when I had tried to pay with wet coins. She gave a small laugh, but not the hearty one I’d heard so often over the years.

  I knew now that our trip was taking its toll.

  As we arrived back at the hospital, Belle didn’t make any comments when it took me three attempts to park. I switched off the ignition and reached across for her hand. I gave it a small squeeze and she squeezed back, though I could see a flicker of pain cross her brow. I lifted her into her chair as gently as I could and began to wheel her back through the maze of corridors to her room.

  ‘Can we make a stop?’ she asked, as we passed the gift shop. I pushed her round and she pointed at the items that she wanted. I put them in the basket on Belle’s lap, taking care not to weigh her down too much.

  My brave and beautiful friend looked fragile underneath.

  ‘Is that everything?’ I asked as she paid.

  She nodded. Back at her room, she gave me careful instructions on who to deliver the items to on my way out. ‘The crisps are for the two old ladies in the side room opposite. I was in with them for a night; they didn’t let me sleep at all, arguing about who was making too much noise crunching secret snacks. This way they can annoy each other to their heart’s delight. The chocolates are for the nurses. They sat up with me making sure I wasn’t in too much pain. The flowers are for the lady in the end bed on the right. She’s finished her chemo and should be going home soon. Please wish her all the best for me.’