With her eyes open, she looked beyond the cloth in front of her, towards a place she was frightened to go. There were still more decisions to take and she was starting to realize that she couldn’t delude herself into thinking that any part of her life was going to be normal ever again. She had already stepped away from work, now she had to accept that she would never return. Cutting back on her involvement in the bistro would not be so easy but there would have to be some kind of withdrawal. Her mum had been right, her sister really did need to learn to stand on her own two feet. Emma wasn’t going to be around forever.
Finally, her thoughts turned to Ben and those thoughts immediately led to the fictional life they were creating together. She still hadn’t been able to use her laptop and was beginning to wonder if it was worth continuing with something that she may not be able to complete. But the story had continued in her head of its own accord and she would be compelled to write it down when she could. Even now, her story was drawing her in and she didn’t fight it. The more space it occupied in her mind, the less room that would be available for her cancer and her fears, she told herself.
I was still holding back the tears as my stomach lurched. It was the moment where gravity released its grip and the plane took flight, tearing me away from the man I loved. Sunlight flared against my face as I watched the clouds fall below me. The bright blue sky stung my tearless eyes.
The plane dipped, my stomach lurched again and then the sun disappeared. Immersed in shadow, I felt tentacles of darkness reaching towards my heart. I closed my eyes and came face to face with the shopkeeper.
‘Take the box, Emma,’ was all he said.
The plane levelled off and I was returned to the light. I gasped as I thought of what I was about to do. Ben was the man I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. What had I done? Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. It was only then that I realized that I had already started to cry. Tears were running down my face, my nose was blocked and I was getting strange looks from the poor man seated next to me. I made my excuses, apologized for dropping drenched tissues on his lap and headed for the toilet cubicle to freshen up. My eyes were swollen and red and through blurred vision I made my way to the back of the plane. In my haste to be out of sight from curious onlookers, I snagged my skirt on someone’s seat.
‘Sorry,’ I blubbed to the man looking up towards me.
‘So you should be,’ he said sternly. ‘Do you realize what kind of hell you’ve put me through?’
I slumped onto his knee and buried my head in his neck as the torrent of tears restarted, falling down my face and onto Ben’s neck with renewed force. I couldn’t get rid of him that easy.
Emma pulled herself back into the real world, peeling the damp cloth from her face. She knew she had been possessed with a grim determination to take control of her life and accept that she was dying. It had been an unstoppable adrenalin rush that had swept away the drug-induced fog and it had got her through the painful conversations she’d had with her family, with Ben and with Mr Spelling. She had shrugged on a suit of armour, ready for battle and she already had some small victories under her belt. She knew she should be pleased with herself.
But as the water cooled, the cocoon she had slipped into didn’t feel quite so safe any more. She had set aside her suit of armour and she shivered in her nakedness. The water shivered in sympathy. There were two enemies she knew she couldn’t defeat and she had already spent the last five years getting to know the first, the monster in her head. The second enemy wasn’t exactly new but she had only just learnt the measure of it. That enemy was time.
Emma had learnt long ago that it was best not to ask questions if you didn’t want to know the answer but whilst her family hadn’t asked the burning question, she had. When she asked Mr Spelling how long she had left, he had given her an honest answer. His reply was that he didn’t know but his best guess was that she would be lucky to count that time in months.
The water she had splashed on her face dripped off her chin, falling into the trembling water below. A rogue droplet slipped between her lips. It was salty but she didn’t recognize it as a tear, not until the first sob echoed off the tiled walls. Emma drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs as she tried to hold herself together.
‘Why now? Why me?’ Emma whispered, her words reverberating across the bathroom. Her questions went unanswered other than by the steady dripping and the slow release of another sob that sounded more like the howl of a trapped animal.
‘I don’t want to die!’ she sobbed, the sudden release of emotion taking her by surprise. Her words were louder now and she could hear her voice clearly as it rebounded off the stark white walls.
She wanted to scream and when she realized she couldn’t, that it would only send Sally Anne crashing through the door to destroy the little privacy she had managed to secure, she wanted to scream even more. ‘I’m not ready!’ Emma howled as loudly as she dared. ‘I haven’t finished living yet!’
She stifled the next sob and then the next as a frown cut deeply across her brow. She had caught the sound of her words echoing off the walls and it pulled her back from her desolation. ‘I want to live,’ she said, breathing through her pain so that she could concentrate on the sound of the voice being returned to her. Emma chanced a smile and gulped back her tears, breathing in deeply to quell her trembling body.
‘I will live a full life,’ she said as she realized that her voice wasn’t the only way her words could be echoed. Her writing could do the same. Her story was her route to a fruitful and fulfilling life, her only route. Emma managed a smile as she steeled herself. She was ready to slip back into her suit of armour and carry on the fight.
Chapter 11
I lifted the coffee to my lips and breathed in the warm, damp aroma rising from my cup. My senses came to life as if the drink was a sacred elixir and had transformed the world around me. The river glistened like liquid silver and the grass along the embankment was a luscious green carpet. The blossom trees were a spectacle to behold, each precious flower quivering as if it was a soft pink butterfly preparing for flight. I imagined I could hear the flapping of their delicate wings amidst the ripple of voices and the hum of the traffic.
It wasn’t the coffee that intoxicated me; it wasn’t even the joy of being in Paris in springtime. It was the joy that I felt in my heart. I had foolishly thought I had been in love before but I was only now learning the difference between lust and love, between adoration and mutual admiration and between total submission and the melding of souls.
I was sitting outside a café with a perfect view of the Seine and a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower glinting in the morning sun as I waited for Ben. He had set off to buy some supplies for my birthday picnic. Meanwhile, I was supposed to be finishing off a piece of work so we could spend the afternoon together but I had become mesmerized by my surroundings, overcome by my swelling heart and I could concentrate on nothing else.
How had it taken me so long to discover true love? As with many things, I could trace it back to my childhood. I had spent so much energy trying to please my father, relinquishing my own dreams to pander to his in a vain attempt to secure his rationed attention. Then, when he had honoured his family with his presence, it had been such a thrill that it had spurred me on to engender more. Unwittingly, I had been trying to replicate that feeling, that thrill, in my adult life; it had become the blueprint for my future relationships with men.
I scanned the legion of faces in the crowded square, searching out the man who had allowed me to rip up that blueprint and start again. With Ben, I hadn’t needed to beg for morsels of attention; if anything it had been the complete opposite. He had been the one watching me whilst I had remained unaware and distant and it was that space in between that had connected us before I even knew it. I was only now learning that we could both have our place in the limelight, neither pushed into the shadows. We were equals and we would find a way to build a life that would satisfy both our needs
and desires.
My past was firmly behind me and I was looking forward to the rest of my life and for the first time, I didn’t run away from the idea of starting a family. I wanted to marry Ben and I wanted to return to our cottage in the Welsh hills, to be a wife and mother. Ben was not a man made from the same mould as my father and family life with him was going to be a whole new experience.
As I drained my coffee, the last sip left a grainy bitterness in my mouth. I played with the textures it left on my tongue as I watched a figure walking across the cobbles. He had a large bouquet of bright red roses in front of him, obscuring his face. I wondered if it was Ben but I couldn’t be sure as he weaved through the crowd. Such clichéd gestures of love had peppered my past. Alex in particular had been a frequent visitor to the florist but I had never had the courage to tell him that if anything, I preferred pink roses. I glimpsed the man’s face as he veered off course. To my relief, it wasn’t Ben.
‘Is that how you work these days?’ Ben had come from another direction and was standing beside me. ‘Direct thought transfer to your computer?’
I looked guilty at the unopened laptop on the table as he kissed my head. When he sat down, I could see that his arms were full. Ben’s bouquet consisted of a brown paper grocery bag bursting with goodies and a French loaf sticking out of the top. The aroma of warm bread with undertones of sweet marinades drifted towards me. The heady scents spoke more of love and our future together than any bunch of gaudy flowers. ‘I’ve been distracted by a new kind of life,’ I told him.
Emma was out of hospital and busy planning the next phase of her life. It was going to be different, it was going to be tough and it was most definitely not going to be normal. The plan was to begin radiotherapy at the beginning of February, which was only a couple of weeks away. Intent on tying up loose ends, Bannister’s Kitchens and Bathrooms was first on her list.
‘Emma, how lovely to see you,’ Jennifer said, rushing over to give her a hug.
Emma did a double take. To all appearances, the woman in front of her was a consummate professional, her clothes demur and businesslike. She looked a lot less like the Jennifer of old and more like … well, more like Emma.
‘I’ve only dropped by to say hello and to pick up the last of my things,’ Emma replied. ‘I’ve already spoken to your dad.’
‘I know.’
‘He was very kind,’ Emma told her as she recalled how Mr Bannister had refused to accept her resignation. He didn’t try to convince her that there might still be a chance of her return. She had told him there wasn’t and he had seen enough of cancer to know what lay ahead for her but he had insisted that she would remain an employee of the company. No arguments.
‘I’ve packed all your things up like you asked,’ explained Gina, coming up to give her friend a hug. ‘You should have said you were coming in today, we would have put the welcome banners up.’
‘I didn’t want you all making a fuss and I’m not staying long, Ben’s waiting outside.’ The words burned at the back of Emma’s throat as she thought about the door she was about to close on a huge part of her life. Her career. ‘Is Ally in?’
‘I’m here,’ Ally said from behind her, her voice as broken as her heart.
Both Ally and Gina had visited Emma in hospital and she had delivered the news to them personally. The experience had clearly left them traumatized but at least in an office setting, they were all doing their best to staunch their tears.
‘I have a bone to pick with you,’ Emma told her.
‘What have I done now?’ Ally said with a trembling smile.
Emma pulled Ally into the corridor for a quiet word. She stepped closer to her and in a motherly gesture, brushed a lock of hair away from Ally’s eyes. ‘You’ve upset my favourite nurse.’
‘I’m sorry, Emma,’ she said, biting down on her lip. ‘I should have told you about Peter but it was only a couple of dates.’
‘Do you like him?’
‘Yes, but …’
‘I know,’ Emma told her. ‘Me.’
Ally nodded. ‘I spent most of the time interrogating him. I think it was a matter of me dumping him before he dumped me.’
Emma shook her head. ‘I won’t have this on my conscience. Set the ground rules if you have to, work out how much you should or shouldn’t talk about what’s happening to me, let him know how much you can deal with hearing, but give it another try. You need to have someone with you and I think Peter would be good for you.’
With the lecture over and promises made, Emma returned to the office. She asked Jennifer if she could use the computer and when she was logged in she quickly found the files she needed. They were a hidden collection of archived creative notes, strategy and design suggestions, messages and reports. This would remove all doubt about the extent of Emma’s input. ‘These are for your dad. I know he’s still prevaricating over appointing consultants, so here’s all the background thinking to the present campaign. He might find it helpful,’ Emma explained, hoping that Jennifer had more sense than she herself had once shown and wouldn’t hand the files directly to Alex allowing him to lay claim to her work one last time. From Ally and Gina’s reports, she had so far spurned all the attention Alex had been showering on her.
‘I’ll show him,’ Jennifer promised.
There was something in her voice that gave Emma hope that she would. But it was out of her hands. She had been party to Alex’s deception but now at least the truth was out. ‘I’d better go,’ she said. Her body tensed at the thought of leaving the office for the very last time.
‘Do you want to take this?’ Jennifer asked, pointing to the sprightly looking spider plant on her desk.
‘I think you’re doing a pretty good job, you keep it.’
Emma almost made it to the door without a tear being shed but Ally looked like she needed a hug. ‘We’ll come see you soon,’ Ally promised as her eyes began to glisten.
There was nothing Emma could do to stem the flow so she wrapped her arms around her friend instead and let her sob. ‘I’m depending on it. I still have plans and you and Gina are part of them.’
Ally eventually lifted her head from Emma’s shoulder and looked at her expectantly. Emma glanced down at the damp patch she had left on her shoulder along with a black smudge. ‘Although next time wear waterproof mascara.’
‘Sorry,’ sniffed Ally, whose face was also smeared with makeup.
Emma was about to make a second attempt at leaving when pitiful howls rose from behind her. They both looked around to see Gina crying like a baby. Jennifer was doing her best to comfort her and when Gina lifted her head, there was a mark on Jennifer’s shoulder that mirrored Emma’s. The burning sensation at the back of Emma’s throat had crept towards the back of her nose and she knew she couldn’t hold back the tears for much longer.
‘I’d better go,’ she said, picking up the box that Gina had set aside for her, building herself up for the moment when she would remove the last remnants of her existence from the place she had once thought would collapse without her. ‘But if you still need me, you know where I am.’
‘I might just hold you to that,’ Jennifer told her with a tentative smile. ‘I know it looks like I’m filling your shoes, but I’m not. I’ve still got so much more to learn but I’m getting there. I won’t let anyone undo all of your good work.’
Silently thanking Jennifer for allowing her to leave with her dignity intact, she turned to the door and felt Ally gently place a hand on her back; no more words were needed.
She took two steps and then her perfect exit was hijacked by a huge bouquet of red roses blocking the door. From behind the blooms, a pair of furtive eyes appeared, but Emma was less interested in Alex’s face as she was in the sense of familiarity that suddenly overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes to push back the hallucination that threatened, telling herself it was little more than a real-life coincidence. But as she swallowed back the bitter taste of coffee grinds that coated her tongue and the smell
of warm bread and herbs filled her nostrils she knew the monster in her head was still playing its games. Relief flooded her when she opened her eyes and rather than a view of the Seine, she found Alex still standing in front of her like an idiot, unsure what to do next.
‘Hello, Emma,’ he said at last.
She could almost follow his thought process as it played out in the expressions on his face. The flowers were undoubtedly intended for Jennifer but it was the unexpected visitor in front of him that he proffered them towards.
Emma sidestepped the rather pathetic gesture and was met by a far more rewarding view. ‘I thought you might like some help,’ Ben said, casting a curious glance towards Alex who was now trying to creep past Emma.
With the box in one hand and an arm around Emma’s waist, Ben led her away and she didn’t look back. She let the sense of familiarity that had set every nerve in her body on edge slowly slip away. She felt safe again and what was more, she was strangely comforted by the sense that she had, if only briefly, stepped closer towards the world of her imagination.
‘I expect you’re wondering why I called you here today,’ Emma said as she gave Ally and Gina her most stern look. She was holding court in what was now her own personal booth at the bistro. It was the ideal location, close to Ben, close to the action and it provided a welcoming meeting place for the friends and family who would play a key role in her evolving plans. Today’s lunch date was part of those plans and would pave the way for one of the highlights in Emma’s life.
‘I assumed it was because you were missing us but by the look on your face, I’d say we have something to worry about,’ replied Ally.
‘Please say it’s nothing awful,’ whimpered Gina. ‘I don’t think I could take any more bad news.’
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