by Mandy Magro
The doctor walked out into the hushed waiting room, her long white coat brushing around her shins. Seven pairs of eyes looked in her direction. The women nervously waiting for their appointments were well aware that the folder the doctor held in her hands could either be their pardon from cancer or their death sentence.
Lynette squeezed Kirsty’s hand as the doctor pushed her glasses down to the tip of her petite nose, reading the file over the top of them, a hint of a smile curling her painted lips. It passed so quickly Kirsty found herself wondering whether she had imagined it.
‘Miss Kirsty Mitchell?’
Kirsty stood, smiling anxiously.
‘Hi, Kirsty, nice to meet you. I’m Doctor Portman,’ she said, a smile now properly lighting up her elfin features. For the umpteenth time that morning, Kirsty felt her stomach lurch. The smile gave her a small sense of hope that the results, after months of horrific chemo, were going to be good.
Kirsty gathered her handbag from the floor, the vibration within indicating her mobile phone was ringing. She fumbled for it as she and Lynette followed the doctor down the corridor, but put the phone back when she saw the caller ID. It wasn’t the first call from Aden she’d ignored. Her fear of what he was going to say was overwhelming. She couldn’t speak to him just yet; she didn’t want to hear the words that would confirm he and Tammy were back together. She had to find it in her heart to be happy for him before she spoke with him – he deserved happiness, lots of it, and maybe Tammy was the right woman for the job.
Dr Portman ushered them into her room. ‘Have a seat, and I’ll be with you in a jiffy. I just need to print out a few more reports. I won’t be long.’
‘Who was that on the phone, love?’ Lynette whispered as they got settled.
‘Oh, no one important,’ Kirsty snapped, instantly feeling guilty. She hadn’t told anyone that she’d seen Tammy at Aden’s. Kirsty reached out and touched her mother’s hand. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just really nervous.’
Lynette smiled as she straightened her dress. ‘I understand. How could you not be?’
Dr Portman came back into the room with a sheaf of papers in her hand. ‘Let’s get you up on the examination table, Kirsty. We’ll just have a look at your breast and see how it’s all going.’
The ceiling had been a common focal point for Kirsty in the last few months as countless doctors and nurses had felt her breast to assess how the chemo was going. But this time the stakes were much, much higher. Her heart began to gallop as Dr Portman gently probed her chest, touching here and there, a look of concentration on her face. Kirsty tried to breathe slowly as she waited. There was nothing she could do – it was either good news or bad news.
As she watched, a smile spread across the doctor’s face. ‘It’s looking good, Kirsty. I can’t feel any lump there at all, which confirms what the recent tests have shown. I believe the chemotherapy has done its job. Have a seat over at the desk, and we’ll discuss your results further.’
Kirsty’s happiness was too powerful to contain as joyful tears broke their banks and rolled down her cheeks. She covered her mouth, her emotions all over the place, a bout of uncontrollable laughter fighting to explode from her. She cleared her throat, taking a long, deep breath to steady her voice. ‘Are you absolutely sure? I’m going to live?’
‘Kirsty, your results speak for themselves. You’ll have to continue having six-monthly check-ups, but that’s routine and nothing to be worried about at the moment.’
As Kirsty pulled her top back on and sat up on the table, Lynette pulled her into a warm embrace, squeezing her tightly, the two of them shedding relieved tears. ‘Oh love, that’s wonderful! What magnificent news! Your father and Robbie are going to be so happy.’
Kirsty wriggled out from Lynette’s grip, squealing as she cupped her mum’s face. ‘I know! It’s the best news I think I’ve ever had. I can’t wait to ring Aunty Kulsoom and tell her. And let Dad and Robbie know – oh, and let Jo know too! I have my life back, Mum . . . the cancer is gone!’
Dr Portman caught their attention by clearing her throat a little too loudly. ‘Please remember, ladies, that we aren’t completely out of the woods as yet. You still have to have a lumpectomy to remove the surrounding breast tissue. Just to be one hundred per cent sure that we’ve got it all.’
Kirsty nodded. ‘Will I have to have any lymph nodes out?’ She’d already been told the lymph nodes in her right armpit might have been affected.
‘No. Your cancer was non-invasive, meaning it has stayed contained within the milk ducts of the breast, which is great news considering how aggressive it was. So I am happy to tell you that there is no need to have the lymph nodes removed.’
Kirsty clapped her hands. ‘Trust me, Doctor Portman, after what I’ve been through, one more visit to the hospital to have surgery is going to be a walk in the park.’
The doctor reached across her desk and took Kirsty’s hand in hers, their eyes locking. ‘You’ve given the cancer one hell of a fight, Kirsty. You should be proud of yourself and the immense courage it’s taken to get through it. So go and live your life to the fullest.’
‘Thank you, I will. And believe me – I’m never going to take anything for granted ever again.’
9 September 2012
Dear Diary,
I have beaten the cancer! I’m going to live! I never thought I would be able to write those words, or even say them out loud, but I can. I truly can. I feel on top of the world! I have so many opportunities ahead of me and I know I can survive anything that life throws at me after the past horrendous five months. No more doubting myself or my abilities as a photographer. It’s time to follow my dreams, to make them realities. And also, my nightmares have stopped. I haven’t had one in almost a month, which I reckon is a great sign. But with this happiness also comes a certain kind of sadness. I wish that Aden could be here to share this great news with me, to hold me in his strong arms and tell me how happy he is. But it was my choice to break up with him; I’ve made my bed and I’ll just have to damn well sleep in it. I have to accept he’s not coming back into my life and move on, like he has. I just hope that one day he will forgive me. With all that aside, it’s time to live my life – and to celebrate the fact I have been given a second chance to live it!
K xx
Kirsty fondly wrapped the diary in her favourite silk scarf, one that she’d used to conceal her hairless head. Part of her knew it was time to put the diary away for good, now that her journey with cancer was coming to an end. And hopefully she wouldn’t need the many scarves that sat on her dressing table for much longer either. Mind you, she was used to wearing a wig around nowadays, preferring that to a scarf when she went out.
By putting the diary away it felt like the beginning of something new, as though her nightmare world of constant pain and fear could be finally laid to rest, left in the past, somewhere at the back of her overstuffed cupboard.
Clutching the diary close to her heart, she recalled the day Aden had brought it home for her, a deep shuddering breath escaping her as she fought to control her emotions. That time seemed so remote to her now. Taking a few moments to silently give thanks for the diary, she opened her cupboard and tucked it away behind old boxes of photos and horse magazines, smiling to herself. It felt so good to be letting go, to finally be moving on in her life.
A cheer erupted from the group in Flame Tree Hill’s formal dining room as everyone raised their glasses of bubbly, all eyes on Kirsty.
Kirsty touched glasses with everyone, her happiness illuminating the room. The moment she had prayed for was here. It was really happening, and it felt amazing.
‘Thank you, everyone! I couldn’t have got through this without you all here to support me.’ Kirsty lowered her eyes, emotion welling up once again. ‘I feel bad that I’ve needed so much attention. You’ve all put your own lives and responsibilities on hold for me in your own ways, never complaining when you’ve had to carry me to the toilet, bathe me
or just simply sit with me and hold my hand. I’m so lucky to have all of you in my life. I feel very blessed.’
Jo wrapped her arm around Kirsty’s shoulder, giving her a loving squeeze. ‘Aw, mate, we love you. Of course we were going to help you out in your time of need. You’d do exactly the same for us; remember that. No feeling guilty, okay?’
Robbie joined Jo, wrapping his arms around the two women, giving them an embrace that caused him to slosh champagne onto the floor. He quickly rubbed it in with his sock and winked at his mother’s disapproving face. ‘Yeah, sis. I wouldn’t have had it any other way, even though you told me to bugger off on a number of occasions. I’m used to you telling me what to do, though, bossy britches.’ He pulled back from the embrace, raising one eyebrow high enough to almost meet his hairline, something Kirsty had always wanted to be able to do. ‘Anyway, where’s Aden? He should be here with us celebrating your great news – I know it would mean the world to him. Do you want me to give him a quick ring, tell him to come join us for dinner?’
‘Oh, that would be lovely, Robbie! I’ve made plenty, as usual,’ Lynette chirped, her eyes twinkling as she glanced at Kirsty for approval.
Ron nodded. ‘Why not? The more the merrier.’
‘Oh, no, um, I think he’s busy.’ Kirsty’s smile faded. She didn’t want to think about Aden right now – she couldn’t. She quickly turned her eyes to where Robbie had spilt his champagne. Crouching down, she began vigorously rubbing the spot with her napkin.
Robbie crouched down too, staring at her. He grabbed her hand to stop her rubbing the carpet away. ‘Really? I find it very hard to believe that he’d be too busy. Let me go and call him and I bet he’ll be here straightaway.’
Kirsty wriggled her hand free of his firm grip, her happiness threatening to evaporate. Robbie shook his head, disappointment furrowing his brows as he stood. He folded his arms, taking a moment to assess the situation. The room became awkwardly silent.
‘I know you told me to stay out of it, Kirsty, but enough is enough. You haven’t even told him your results yet, have you? How could you not tell him, after everything he’s been through with you, after everything you put the poor bloke through when you broke it off with him? I can’t bloody believe you!’
Jo placed her hand gently on his shoulder. ‘Now, come on, Robbie, give her a break. She’s been through hell and back and doesn’t need this right now. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, hey?’
‘I can sympathise, Jo, I really can, but I cannot stand back and let her do this to my mate either. Aden deserves better treatment than this. He’s a good bloke. And he’s in love with her!’
With Robbie’s eyes burning a hole right through her, Kirsty was acutely aware of the blood pulsing beneath her skin, her heart pounding against her chest like a sledgehammer. A deep rage tore at her. How dare Robbie put her in this position, in front of Mum, Dad and Jo! She bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as hot tears filled her eyes. She blinked them back fiercely, angry at herself for losing control of her emotions, and angry at everyone for constantly reminding her of what she’d put Aden through. She beat herself up enough over it without them doing it for her as well. Brusquely pushing herself up from the floor, Kirsty shot a fleeting glance around the room. Everyone’s disappointment was clear. Her hurt and anger flowed from her as she began to shout, emotions contorting her face.
‘I’m the one that crashed the car that night. It wasn’t James driving, it was me! That’s why I can’t invite Aden here. He hates me for killing his sister! And it seems he’s back with Tammy, too. There, are you all happy now?’
Shocked expressions replaced the looks of disappointment as Kirsty ran from the dining room. She dashed towards the stables, praying no one was following her.
Chapter 27
THE rhythmic rumble of hoofs vibrated through the ground. The stock horses and novice jockeys galloped down the dirt track towards the finishing line, clumps of earth and powdery dust flying out behind them. On the sidelines the spectators – a growing throng of women in feathery fascinators, men in their Sunday best and old timers in weathered Akubras – gathered at the fence line, some with arms held high in the air in an attempt to edge their wagered horse forwards, others hollering their support enthusiastically for their mates.
The Hidden Valley Bush Races were nothing like a typical race day. The jockeys were all local jackeroos and jillaroos, dressed in their best jeans, flash hats, favourite boots and button-up shirts, and the track was made up entirely of dirt. The competing horses were more accustomed to mustering cattle on the surrounding stations than galloping around a slapdash track in one direction. But somehow it all came together and worked brilliantly.
Heightened anticipation filled the air. Groups of frocked-up girls were whispering together, eyeing off the eligible bachelors, while the young men gathered in testosterone-fuelled circles, their deep laughter echoing around the bar area as they occasionally stole glances at the women. The Hidden Valley Bush Races was the event of the year for the small community, and one not to be missed. Kirsty was glad she had come, despite her fears of running into Aden and Tammy. It felt good to be part of the community again.
The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, his pitch rising as the horses and jockeys pushed onwards, their ultimate goal now only metres away. Kirsty held her breath as she leant against the makeshift railing beside Harry Mallard, squinting as she followed the path of The Mad Hatter, the beautiful bay horse she had gambled on. Her belly performed a backflip as the gelding edged his way up to join the frontrunners, the white snip on his muzzle a breath ahead of the other horses. She was praying for a win – she hadn’t had any luck so far.
‘Go, you good thing! You can do it! Go!’ she cried out as she eagerly smacked the railing, totally swept up in the excitement of the moment as the horses thundered over the finishing line and the crowd roared. She leapt up in the air, clapping her hands with delight. Her horse had bloody well won! She was now officially two hundred bucks up. Woo hoo!
She slapped Harry on the back, a huge grin on her face. ‘Thanks for the heads up on the horse.’
Harry smiled wearily, his eyes etched with sadness. ‘My pleasure, lass. Anyhow, must run – I still have to tie up a few loose ends before the race that’s dedicated to Mary. I’ll catch you a bit later on.’
Kirsty reached out and gave him a quick squeeze, waving him off as he limped away. Harry had been thrilled to hear that Kirsty’s final results had come back clear, but Kirsty couldn’t help feeling guilty. She’d made it, while Mary hadn’t been so lucky.
The crowd began to scatter in different directions, the next race was in half an hour. Some betting slips were torn up in dismay and tossed in nearby bins, while others were carefully clutched until the owners could trade them for cold hard cash. Then it was icy-cold beers and head-spinning champagne until the next race began.
Clutching her winning ticket, Kirsty made her way towards Robbie and Jo, chuffed she had at last had a win. Things were still a little awkward, and she hoped that the light mood of the day would help ease any residual tension.
Kirsty’s bombshell had created massive ripples in her family as her parents, Robbie and Jo struggled to understand why she’d felt the need to lie to them all this time about the accident. She was surprised, and comforted, to learn they were more upset about her inability to open up to them than the fact she had been in control of the car.
After Kirsty had run out of the family dinner, she’d gone straight to Cash and headed out for a ride, trying to deal with the implications of what she’d just admitted. She hadn’t ridden far – it was dusk and she was worried about dingoes – and as she’d arrived back she hadn’t been sure what to expect. But when she’d walked into the cottage, tear-stained and sweaty, Lynette had been waiting for her, and had taken her into her arms and held her there, explaining through her sobs just how sorry she was that Kirsty had felt the need to go through such emotional torture on her own.
/> Despite everything, Kirsty’s family supported her. She just wished she could gain Aden’s forgiveness, too.
‘Hey there, babe!’ Jo chirped as she threw her free arm around Kirsty, a little unstable in her high heels, her cheeks rosy from the combination of wine and standing in the sweltering hot sun. A stylish burgundy hat was perched on her head but it did little to shade her face, the emphasis being more on the floral embellishments than on actual functionality.
Kirsty wore a hat too, although hers was beige, to complement the sleek coffee-coloured dress that gently accentuated what curves she had left. She felt good, better than she had felt in months, and a little sexy as well, with her stilettos. That morning, after adding the final touches of lip gloss and her long blonde wig, she had been quietly impressed with her reflection. It was a nice change. Now she was slowly beginning to loosen up and enjoy the party mood of the races – no doubt the glasses of strawberry sparkling wine had helped.
Jo downed the last mouthful from her plastic champagne flute and wobbled it in the air, cheekily motioning to Robbie for another. Robbie grinned as he leant down and rummaged through the Esky in search of the strawberry sparkling while Jo turned her attention back to Kirsty. ‘So, what’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for ages! Thought you were just ducking to the loo and then the next thing I knew, the race was on and I couldn’t find you in the crowd. I was beginning to wonder whether you had run off into the bushes with some handsome bloke.’