Never Let Go (Take My Hand)

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Never Let Go (Take My Hand) Page 17

by Nicola Haken


  “I love you so much,” I whispered against her lips. The emotion I felt after leaving the hospital this morning came bubbling to the surface and I kissed her hard, reminding myself what I continued to fight for every single day.

  “It was bad news, wasn’t it?” she asked dimly, pulling out of our kiss. Sighing, I sat back a little, keeping hold of her hand.

  “Yes,” I said, nodding slowly. “The tumor’s spread and they’ve effectively discharged him.”

  “Soooo… now we just… wait?”

  “Yeah. That’s the impression I got. He’s under the care of the community nursing team now. They will arrange to come and see him however frequently he needs and they can administer pain meds and shit like that.”

  “Community nurses? Is that like what Paula is?”

  “I think so. You should call her. I’m sure she can reassure you better than I can, and that’s what she’s there for, remember? Not just for Chris but for you too.”

  “Are my ears burning?” Chris startled us both. He does that a lot lately.

  “I was just telling Em about your appointment this morning.”

  “Do we know how long?” Emily questioned, tears bobbing on the rims of her eyes.

  “We’re talking two or three months,” Chris confessed dejectedly as he lowered himself into the armchair. Emily swallowed so forcefully it was audible throughout the room. “It could get bad, Emmie. Really bad.” The bobbing tears spilled over the edge of Emily’s eyes and I shuffled a little closer to her, wrapping my arm around her waist. “I’m not saying it to make you cry,” Chris added, sounding a mixture of guilty and heartbroken. “But you need to know what might happen.”

  “I know,” she said solemnly, sucking in a stuttering breath. “And you can tell me. I’m okay. Well, I’m not okay, but I can handle it. I promise.”

  I stayed silent and let Chris take the lead. He told her about the possibility of him losing his memory, his vision, his speech… he told her everything. It was a heart-wrenching scene to be a part of. Em and Chris held hands the entire time, as if they both knew they wouldn’t be able to physically feel each other for much longer.

  “You won’t be alone. You know that right?” Emily said, squeezing his hand. For a second I found myself staring at their entwined hands. Emily’s were soft and pink – a sharp contrast to Chris’ whose were filled with deep, gray wrinkles. Chris nodded, forcing a weak smile. “If you’re up to it, I’d like us to have one last good time together. Like we did in Blackpool.”

  Hmm. News to me.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked warily.

  “Well… when we got back from the States I found out The Script were doing a series of small gigs around the country – kind of like a warm up for their tour. I bought four tickets and was going to surprise you both… but then you told me about, well you know, and it suddenly seemed unimportant. I’ve not even thought about it since, but I was so excited when I booked them. I could see us all there having a great time. I want that memory to be a real one.”

  “When is it?”

  “Next week. Monday. But listen, it will be loud and crowded and please believe me it is completely fine if you’re not up to it. I just-”

  “Emmie, I want to make happy memories for you too. Providing I still know who I am on Monday, I’ll be there.”

  “Don’t, Chris. You will know who you are. You won’t leave me until you have to.”

  Chris opened his mouth, to argue I suspected, but closed it again just as quickly, choosing to hug Emily instead.

  “You said you got four tickets? Who’s number four?”

  “Well originally I got one for Sarah. I don’t know if she’s a fan of The Script but I didn’t want to leave her out. But now she’s got my dad soooo…” she trailed off, shrugging.

  “I’ll ask her. If not maybe we can sell it or something.”

  “Yeah. I don’t really care to be honest. I wasn’t planning on even mentioning it to you guys so losing the cost of one ticket is better than four.”

  “You know… I’m not a fan either, doll.”

  “Me neither,” Chris agreed, raising his hand.

  “Whatever. You guys are just jealous of Danny O’Donoghue’s beautiful face.”

  “Yeah,” I said, laughing softly. “Yeah you got us.”

  “Anyway you’re coming because I love them and you love me.”

  “We’ll have a great time whoever’s playing,” Chris said, patting Em’s knee.

  “That’s settled then. Eeeeeep! Danny here I come! Wahooo!”

  Wow. Emily was wearing such a brilliant smile in that moment and it made my heart dance a little faster. She was so beautifully happy and I made sure to mentally capture the image, committing it to memory.

  I will never get tired of loving this girl. She is the reason I’m still breathing – still fighting. She taught me how to love, how to allow myself to be loved… she taught me how to feel. I owe my whole life to this beautiful woman and yet I would give it up in a heartbeat to save her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Emily

  The last few days have been tough. Chris’ memory slipped again and it lasted longer than the first episode. This time however it affected his immediate memory, meaning he couldn’t remember what happened the day before but he still knew who we all were and what was going on in our lives right now. That in itself was a blessing. I could cope with that kind of memory loss. He was still ‘him’ if that makes sense.

  The day after that he had such severe pain radiating from the back of his head and down his spine we had to call Paula to come and give him something. By the time she arrived he was literally screaming and fisting the sheets in desperation. Paula gave him a shot of morphine and it took no longer than a minute to calm him – soothe him into a restful sleep. She also left behind some Oramorph – an oral morphine solution designed to be administered either by himself or by us. He’s needed that several times in the last two days and afterwards he seems incapable of doing anything but sleep.

  And that’s why I’m no longer getting my hopes up about going to see The Script tomorrow.

  Marianne and Patricia were due at the airport at 10 AM, so Dexter and I dropped them off and stayed with them until they got to security control. Dexter has been hanging out with Marianne every day and I’ve enjoyed watching them growing closer. Over the course of their time here, I began to see how alike they really are. Apart from the obvious similar shade of hair, they share a lot of the same mannerisms.

  Dexter sticks his tongue out a little when he’s writing – Marianne does too. Dexter does this thing when he’s watching TV or chilling out where he circles his thumb around the tip of his ring finger, and last night while we were all here watching Criminal Minds and eating pizza, I noticed Marianne does the exact same thing. Then there’s the way Dexter sucks in his top lip while he’s thinking… she does that as well!

  Dexter was out picking up some energy drinks for Chris in the hope they’d perk him up a little more than water, when I heard a knock at the door. I was eating a bagel smothered in Nutella at the time so I took a final bite, wiped my hands on my jeans and went to open it.

  “Oh my God!” I squealed, throwing my hand over my mouth when I saw Rachel and Jared right in front of me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Nice to see you too, ho.”

  “You know I’m happy to see you! It’s just why didn’t you mention anything when I spoke to you on the phone yesterday?”

  “I wanted to surprise you. Now are you going to let us in or what?”

  “Sorry,” I muttered, stepping aside.

  “Hey, sugar,” Jared said when he passed me, pausing for a second to give me a peck on the cheek.

  “So when did you decide to come up here?” I asked, grinning literally from ear to ear.

  “Last week. I called my mum and told her we were coming. We’re staying with my parents this time. I’ve finished my last exam at Uni so I’ve got spare time on my han
ds and I don’t know how easily spontaneous visits like this will be with two babies in tow, so I thought we should make the most of it.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I said earnestly, perching myself on the edge of her knees and hugging her close.

  “How is he?” she asked gently when I stood up from her knee.

  “Real…really…” Without warning, tears sprang from my eyes. They almost immediately turned to sobs, rendering me unable to form coherent words. “He’s…he’s…” I choked.

  “Oh, Emily,” she soothed. “Jared. Go and make her a coffee.”

  “No problem,” he agreed, disappearing from the room.

  I sat down on the sofa and Rachel pulled herself over and joined me. She wrapped one arm across my shoulders and pulled me into her, and for a few minutes I just cried into her shirt. Eventually my sobs turned to quiet sniffles and I pulled back, taking hold of her hand and squeezing it.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathed. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Don’t be so stupid, Em. Don’t ever be sorry for being upset.”

  “Honestly, Rach… I think it’s nearly time. Every hour of every day a little more life seems to slip away from him.”

  “Shit.” Funnily enough, that was a perfect statement to describe this situation.

  “We were supposed to be going to see The Script at The Ritz tomorrow, but I doubt he’ll be strong enough to make it.”

  “I’d offer to go, but you know I think Danny O’Donoghue looks like a homeless guy with a fetish for tight pants and waistcoats,” she teased, making light of the situation. It made me smile.

  Jared came back in the living room then… empty handed.

  “Where the fuck is our coffee?” Rachel asked him.

  “Oh. I didn’t think you actually wanted me to make coffee.”

  “Jared – go and make coffee. Hmm… sorry what does that translate to in moron language?”

  “I thought you just wanted time to… I don’t know… bond or whatever it is your girls do when one of you cries!”

  “You’re so cute, Jared,” I said, smiling.

  “Cute? Since when is idiocy considered cute?” Rachel asked. But then she winked at Jared and the simple gesture was bursting with adoration.

  “About the same time women with foul mouths and tattoos started being considered attractive,” he shot back. I could see Rachel gearing up for her comeback when Dexter walked in.

  “Oh,” he said, his eyes widening in surprise. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “Jesus, where’s the love people?” Rachel said. “Can’t you just be happy to see us?”

  “Define happy,” Dexter teased. “I’ll take these up to Chris,” he added, raising the bag of energy drinks in his hand.

  I nodded and then he disappeared up the stairs. After updating them about Chris we mainly talked about the babies. They’re so excited and it’s infectious. Since going home after Blackpool, Jared has cleared out their spare room and started decorating it in Disney Princess wallpaper. Jared apparently wanted to hire a decorator but according to Rachel it’s a ‘daddy’s’ job, and so given the fact Jared has an inability to say no to her, he’s doing it himself.

  Jared’s sister, Jess, had her baby last week and Rachel showed me all the pictures she’d taken of him on her phone. He’s a cute little thing and just looking at his tiny fingers and wrinkly face made my feel all fuzzy inside. Is that what people class as broody? If so, I might be in trouble when I get my hands on a real baby.

  Seriously, she is HUGE right now and I mean that in the most flattering of ways. Her belly covers most of her thighs, leaving just a small space before her knees. And you can actually see them moving! When I first saw her after finding out she was pregnant, the movements were just little ripples under her skin, but now you can literally see little lumps and bumps sticking out, and if you press firmly you can feel large, round things that must either be heads or a bums.

  It’s seriously the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.

  Dexter must’ve been upstairs with Chris for almost an hour before I heard his footsteps making their way back down the stairs. I also heard muffled voices as he approached the room and was surprised to see Chris had come down with him.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked Chris curiously, noticing a hint of colour in his cheeks that hadn’t been there in weeks.

  “Good,” he answered, nodding. “Really good actually.”

  I tried so hard not to get excited, knowing that this didn’t mean he was making some kind of miraculous recovery but I couldn’t help it. Even if he just felt good for an hour I would cherish that time.

  “That’s great! And look who’s here!” I said, nodding my head over to Rachel and Jared.

  “Yeah, Dex said there was trouble waiting for me downstairs.”

  “Trouble, eh?” Rachel chimed. “Which one of us has the criminal record huh, American?”

  “Oh how I’ve missed you, Snickers.”

  “Ugh don’t,” Rachel groaned. “This past few weeks just the thought of chocolate makes me want to spew my intestines out through my mouth.”

  “Oh you really shouldn’t have said that. Seriously you’ve just made the temptation to go and grab a Mars Bar from the kitchen way too hard to resist.”

  “Don’t mistake me being pregnant for weakness. I could still make mince of your balls, dickhead.”

  “So I was thinking,” Chris began, squeezing between Rachel and I on the sofa. “I need to buy a new shirt for tomorrow. Everything I own is drowning me.”

  “Tomorrow?” I repeated. “Chris I don’t think you’re well enough for tomorrow. Forget it, it doesn’t matter, really.”

  “I’ll decide if I’m well enough, Emmie. I wouldn’t miss tomorrow night for the world. Making memories, remember?”

  “I don’t know, Chris.”

  “I’m still older than you, which means you have to do as I say. I’ll be fine, Emmie. Sure I might need to sit at one of the tables rather than shaking my booty by the stage but I’m not missing it. Besides, I assume Dex won’t be drinking given the fact he’ll likely go all crazy junkie on our arses again, so he can drive me home if it gets too much.”

  “Man, how I love the fact my past as an addict amuses you all so much,” Dexter joked, shaking his head. “But Chris is right, doll. We’ll be with him and we can leave if we need to.”

  “Okay,” I agreed as a genuine smile crept onto my face. “In that case we’ll go clothes shopping in the morning.”

  “Hell no, Emmie. Guys don’t do clothes shopping. I’ll nip into Tesco and get something on the way.”

  “Well, whatever. Maybe I’ll still go clothes shopping on my own. I wouldn’t mind something new to wear too.”

  “Something crotchless,” Dexter whispered into my ear, making me swat his arm and tut at him. “BDSM huh? I can work with that,” he added with a suggestive grin as he rubbed the patch of his arm I’d just swiped.

  “Mate, you better not be saying dirty shit to my sister while I’m in the fucking room.”

  “Wouldn’t dare, dude.”

  “Whatever, American. You’ve got ‘I want in your pussy’ written all over your face.”

  “God guys! Enough about my lady bits! I’m right here!” I objected, patting my hands on the side of my face to try and cool my suddenly flushed cheeks.

  “Well my mum’s expecting us back for tea so we’d best get going,” Rachel said once everyone had finished laughing at me. Tossers. “I just wanted you to know we were here and we’ll be here for another two weeks so we’ve got lots of time to catch up. After that… the next time you see me I’ll probably have a baby in each arm!”

  “Wow… how weird does that sound?” I said. Rachel only has three weeks left before her due date so she was right. She will have had them by the time I next visit her in London. “I’m so excited!”

  “I would be excited if I wasn’t too busy shitting my knickers about how much it’s going to hurt.�
��

  “Don’t worry, Rach. They have painkillers and stuff, you’ll be fine.”

  “God I can’t wait to see you get pregnant, ho. Then we’ll see if that’s still your opinion.”

  “Well you’ll have a long wait,” I replied resolutely.

  “That’s what I thought. Turns out withdrawing before the big finale is worth shit.”

  “TMI, Rach!” I groaned, rolling my eyes and trying to dislodge the image that had burst unwelcome into my mind.

  “Anyway, we really have to go now. Jared, call a taxi yeah?”

  “I’ll drive you,” I offered.

  “No you won’t. Stay here and enjoy your time with these hunky monkeys.” I was about to protest but she started talking again. “But come and pick me up in the morning. You can come in for a coffee, show your face to my mum, and then we’ll go shopping for your new outfit.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I agreed with a newfound enthusiasm for tomorrow.

  We all made light, idle chitchat until their taxi arrived. It took about ten minutes to get here and once I’d waved them off, I slumped myself on the sofa next to Chris and laid down with my head on his knees.

  “Why do you think you’re feeling better?”

  “I don’t know but I’m sure as hell not complaining.”

  I snuggled up to him and I felt something tight wind around my heart. Was this the calm before the storm? His last burst of energy before his body gave up completely?

  “You know if you don’t feel good tomorrow, please tell me. It’s really not a big deal.”

  “I promise to tell you if you promise not to mention it again. I’ve told you, Emmie – it’s not just for you. I’m making memories to take with me too.”

  “Do you believe in an afterlife?” I asked curiously.

  “Um…” he pondered for a moment, knitting his eyebrows together in contemplation. “I guess I’m hoping so. I mean… I never did before. I always believed we go back to whatever we were before we were born. Nothing. I believe in science, not religion. Our bodies are just machines – once they switch off, that’s it. But then, even though the rational side of me still truly believes that, a little piece of me hopes I’ll get to see our mum again.”

 

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