Emma raised her eyebrows at her. ‘It’s my mass—’ she made air quotes with her fingers ‘—which means I can make all the bad taste jokes that I want.’
‘Okay.’ Neve nodded. ‘Just don’t expect me to laugh.’
Flick placed a hand on Emma’s arm. ‘Do you want me to tell the kids for you?’
‘No! It’s the girls’ birthday and bad news is the last thing I want them to hear on their special day. And Caleb is probably finding it hard enough to study with Hawaii as a distraction.’ She still couldn’t believe Max thought it okay to whisk him away mere months before his final exams. ‘I don’t want to make things even harder for him. You heard the doctors. We won’t know what exactly is going on for a few days; I don’t want to worry them for no reason. Promise me this is our secret.’
Flick and Neve glanced at each other, a look of concern passing between them, but they eventually nodded their heads.
‘Fair enough. We promise,’ Flick said.
‘But let us know if there’s anything you want us to do,’ added Neve.
‘I do need to wish the girls a happy birthday though. Can one of you find my phone for me? I think it might be in that cupboard.’ She nodded towards the small bedside cupboard and a few moments later Flick handed her the phone.
‘I’m just going to pop to the bathroom,’ Neve said, already turning towards the curtain.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Flick added. ‘Back soon.’
As her friends left, Emma found ‘Laura’ in her recent calls list. Laura had been born seven and a half minutes before Louise so she called her first. This was one of many reasons why Emma wanted to be with them; then she could drag them both into a massive hug as she’d done every year before on their birthday—not putting one before the other. She pressed call before she had the chance to chicken out; not because she didn’t want to talk to her daughters but because she feared hearing their young chirpy voices would unravel her.
Laura answered after a few rings. ‘Hey Mum.’
Emma suddenly remembered the time difference between Hawaii and New York. ‘Happy birthday, darling. I hope I didn’t wake you.’
‘No, you didn’t. We’re at this fabulous café having breakfast and I’ve got the best pancakes ever. Seriously, you cannot imagine how good they are. Dad and Chanel gave us these diamond key necklaces. From Tiffany’s. And they said they’ve got another surprise for us later. Oh and thanks so much for the vouchers—we can’t wait to choose some new stuff for our beds. How’s things in New York? Hawaii is totes epic. The beaches are amazeballs and you should see our tans…’
Emma tried to smile as she listened to her daughter prattle on. This was how it was with the girls. It was often hard to get them talking these days but occasionally they forgot their cool distant act and once they started talking she couldn’t get a word in. Today she was happy not to have to say much. She couldn’t believe Max, splashing out on those expensive necklaces. Wasn’t Hawaii supposed to be the twins’ birthday present? She supposed she should be glad that the kids were having fun with Max and Chanel—if she died, they’d have to live with them full time.
That thought made her nauseous and she pressed a hand against her stomach.
‘Mum? You still there?’
‘Sorry.’ Emma sucked in a quick breath. ‘I couldn’t hear you a moment over the busy New York traffic.’
‘It doesn’t sound very busy.’
‘I’ve just slipped into a shop. Is Louise near you or should I call her phone?’
‘She’s here. I’ll pass you on. Love ya, Mum.’
‘Love you too,’ Emma whispered as the tears she’d been trying so hard to repress grew stronger.
‘Hi Mum. Thanks for the vouchers.’
‘You’re welcome, sweetheart.’ They paled in significance to what daddy dearest had given them, but trying to compete with Max was futile. All it achieved was stress and it had taken an enemy setting up camp inside her head for Emma to realise that.
As with her sister, Louise’s conversation skills were one-sided and Emma barely had to say a word. She told her about the hot lifeguards on the beach, and described everything they’d eaten so far in minute detail. ‘I’ll just pass you onto Caleb. Oh, and Dad says hi and he hopes you’re having a good time in New York. See ya.’
She’d gone before Emma had the chance to say goodbye or warn her not to be too friendly to those lifeguards.
Caleb didn’t sound quite as enthusiastic, but he admitted he was having a good time and making sure to squeeze in an hour of schoolwork each day. Her heart swelled with pride and she felt satisfied that even if she did have cancer—even if she didn’t survive it—Caleb was sensible and independent enough to make good. The twins she was more concerned about, but then again, what fifteen-year-old girl wasn’t obsessed with boys?
She managed to hold back her tears and hopefully sound normal until Caleb had gone. The phone dropped into her lap as she grabbed some cheap hospital tissues from the bedside table. The thought of not living long enough to see her children grow up tore at her heart much more than her divorce or even the death of her mother ever had. The thought that they might go through hard times and disappointments and she wouldn’t be there to comfort and support them made her chest so tight she feared she was having a heart attack.
Of course, that’s when Flick and Neve chose to return.
They took one look at her and rushed back to the bed. This time as they wrapped their arms around her, she stopped trying to pretend she was okay and let herself sob on her friends’ shoulders until her tears were spent. They didn’t say anything—they didn’t have to—but their soothing noises and the gentle massage on her back helped immensely.
Finally, Emma blew her nose one more time and said, ‘Right, I’m tired of talking about this. Let’s talk about something else.’ She looked to Neve, remembering why they were here in New York. ‘Oh my God, what happened with James last night? Did he explode?’
Flick snorted, a sudden smile appearing on her face. ‘Oh, he exploded all right. But not in the way you’re thinking.’
Neve glared at her. ‘Not funny.’
‘What’s going on?’ Emma asked.
‘I don’t want to worry you with it.’
It was Emma’s turn to glare. ‘Please, I need to think about something other than my stupid head.’
Neve sighed. ‘Your head is not stupid, but okay. If you promise not to hate me, I’ll tell you.’
‘Right now the only thing I hate is that I’m in hospital with a brain tumour or some thingamajig. Everything else pales in comparison.’
Neve nodded, but her lips remained pursed a few moments as if she were summoning courage. ‘I did see James last night but…’
As Neve talked, Emma tried to make the appropriate noises in the appropriate places. Under any other circumstances, the news that Neve had slept with James instead of telling him anything would have riled her and she’d have berated Neve for her stupidity and selfishness, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to worry. The truth was she couldn’t concentrate on anything except the uninvited lump inside her head.
Strangely, for the first time in a long while, she didn’t have a headache. Whatever they’d drugged her with last night, she hoped they’d give her a doggy bag to take back to the hotel when she was discharged.
‘What do you think I should do?’ Neve asked.
Well, that much was obvious. ‘You need to tell James the truth. ASAP. You need to think with your head rather than your hormones, and you need to face the consequences. You’re here for Will, remember. He needs to know his father. You never know when something might happen to you.’
‘You’re right. I know.’ Neve closed her eyes a moment, a flush creeping across her cheeks. ‘I’ll text him now and see if he can meet me again later tonight.’
‘He’ll probably thinking you’re after a repeat of last night,’ Flick said.
Neve raised an eyebrow at her. ‘While I message
James, why don’t you tell Emma about your evening?’ She met Emma’s gaze as she dug her mobile phone out of her handbag. ‘You and I weren’t the only ones having an eventful night.’
‘Oh?’ Emma looked to Flick, who scowled and then nodded.
‘You know that old friend I met in the bar the other night?’
Before Flick had the chance to elaborate, the curtain peeled back and an orderly stood there grinning at them. She nodded at the wheelchair in her grasp. ‘Cab for Mrs McLoughlin.’
Emma found herself relieved to have a reason to escape. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in her friend’s stories but she was bone tired. She attempted a smile at the cheery woman as she climbed out of bed and into the wheelchair. Surely there were other patients who needed the wheelchair more than she did—people who actually couldn’t walk perhaps?—but less than twenty-four hours in this depressing place and already Emma had learnt the futility of trying to argue.
‘Thanks,’ she said as she settled into the chair and then glanced up at her friends. ‘Back soon I guess.’
They nodded and spoke in unison. ‘We’ll be right here.’
Chapter Thirty-three
Felicity
‘Where the heck is she getting her energy from?’ Flick hissed to Neve as Emma slipped into the bathroom.
‘No idea.’ Neve groaned, taking a sip of the hotel room coffee and not even grimacing. After next to no sleep in the last forty-eight hours, their standards had dropped when it came to caffeine. ‘But I’m almost looking forward to seeing James again tomorrow. At least I’ll have five minutes’ reprieve from the sightseeing junkie in there.’
Flick only had the energy for a half nod.
When Emma had been discharged the day before after her MRI, the doctors reiterated that she should take it easy over the next few days. The young bloke—who reminded Flick of Doogie Howser MD—had suggested finding a day spa somewhere and enjoying a facial or massage. Neve’s expression had brightened at this idea and Flick was willing to get behind anything that involved sitting or lying down, but Emma had glared at the poor boy as if he’d suggested naked busking in Times Square.
Flick knew then that making Emma adhere to the doctor’s orders wouldn’t be easy. Neither of them had dealt with anything like this before. Until yesterday, none of their friends or family had ever been diagnosed with anything potentially life-threatening. Emma’s brain mass had thrown them for six. Even Flick’s marriage woes didn’t seem as awful anymore. At least she, Seb and the kids had their health.
Emma was the only one who’d been close to terrible illness before—she’d lost her mother to cancer about six years ago—but she refused to talk about that now. From the moment they left the hospital, she’d refused to talk about her fall, the bang on her head or the mass inside it.
‘Late lunch anyone?’ had been her precise words. ‘Hospital food is crap worldwide. I feel like a massive hamburger with loads of greasy fries on the side. And I know just the place. Follow me, ladies.’
As Emma strode towards the taxi rank, Neve and Flick had exchanged a look. They knew her well enough to realise that this overly chipper attitude was a mask for the shock, terror and fear that would be taking over inside. Without a word to each other, they decided to follow her lead. If Emma didn’t want to talk about it, then neither would they. But they’d be there with tissues and shoulders to lean on if and when she cracked.
By the time they’d got to the sidewalk, Emma was already in a cab chatting to the driver as if they were simply three carefree women on holiday from the day-to-day mundanity of their lives. He drove them to a hamburger joint not far from their hotel that Emma admitted having been to with Max. Normally she steered clear of such places, but she promised them the hamburgers were worth it. And she was right. They’d practically inhaled those burgers. And the fries… Well, they were crisp and golden and everything else you wanted in a potato chip. Exactly what the doctor ordered.
They’d all but licked their plates clean and then Neve had tried to steer them back to the hotel for a few hours of R&R, but Emma wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, she’d lured them out to Bloomingdales and shopped like they’d never seen her do before. For someone who usually watched her money carefully, she’d splashed out with Mr Visa as if she’d just won the lottery. All her purchases were for the kids—everything from tacky tourist t-shirts to expensive sneakers, jewellery and bags. When she’d finally had enough, Flick and Neve could have dropped down on the sidewalk and fallen asleep right there.
Emma had spent up so big that they needed to return to the hotel to dump her purchases, and once there, Flick and Neve had tried to get her to rest. Flick wanted to wrap her in cottonwool or tie her to the bed and force rest upon her, but Emma wasn’t having any of it. She’d dragged them to the restaurant at the top of the hotel, ordered the most expensive thing on the menu and then shouted cocktails for them all.
Only after she’d drunk so much that she tried to dance on the tabletop, only when they’d promised to open the expensive bottle of sparkling wine in the minibar, had they finally been able to coerce Emma into heading down to their room. Despite her talk of partying until the sun came up, she’d taken a few steps inside and collapsed face down on the first bed, giving Flick and Neve their first moment of reprieve since the MRI.
They’d looked at each other, mutual expressions of relief and exhaustion on their faces. Although Flick wanted to discuss Emma’s worrying coping mechanisms, she’d been so exhausted she could barely find the energy to take off her shoes or brush her teeth. Instead she’d glanced at Emma lying prostrate on the bed and silently prayed that her friend would live to pay back all the debt she’d made today. Then, she’d looked to Neve, whose eyes were glistening. Neve never cried. She got angry, she got scared, she lost her shit occasionally, but in five years of friendship, Flick couldn’t remember her once succumbing to tears. There were no words. Instead, they’d solemnly readied themselves for bed on autopilot. Flick had taken her turn on the sofa bed and Neve climbed into the other double, both of them hoping they’d wake up in the morning and find that it had all been an awful nightmare.
After the amount Emma drank, they’d expected her to sleep late and then wake up with a hangover to rival the headaches she’d been having for weeks, but there was no rhyme or reason to miracles. While Neve and Flick would have happily stayed in bed till noon or even later, Emma had peeled back the curtains and woken them with faux-cheerfulness, insisting they ‘Arise, so we don’t waste another beautiful day.’
Well, Flick and Neve had risen and they’d both thrown on some clothes, but Flick wasn’t sure she could handle another day of Emma on I’m-scared-I-have-cancer-but-refuse-to-admit-it adrenaline mode. It would almost have been easier if she’d fallen into bed and refused to leave, drowning in vulnerability and fear. At least then they’d have been able to ply her with alcohol and ice-cream and commiserate. But this high-energy, pretendingeverything-was-okay Emma was exhausting.
The door of the bathroom opened again and she appeared. For one brief moment, Flick thought she saw a glimpse of anxiety, but Emma quickly pasted over it with a wide grin. She clapped her hands together as if trying to excite a bunch of toddlers. ‘Come on, ladies. Spit-spot.’
Flick swallowed a groan and pushed herself up off the chair, wondering if Emma was acting like this because she was trying to keep her mind occupied with something other than her MRI results or because she expected the worst and wanted to live life to the full while she still could.
‘Where are we off to first?’ she asked, adopting a similar faux-chirpy tone to the one Emma had been using since the hospital.
‘I thought we could walk the Brooklyn Bridge.’
Flick looked at Neve. How long exactly was the bridge? That definitely didn’t sound anything like the rest the doctor had ordered, but Emma would probably bite her head off if she mentioned it.
‘I’m a little tired after yesterday,’ Neve admitted, obviously thinking similar
thoughts. ‘Could we do something that doesn’t require so much … uh, exercise?’
‘You shouldn’t have drunk so much last night,’ Emma chastised.
Flick didn’t know whether to laugh or not as Neve almost choked on the dregs of her coffee. It was a testament to Emma’s current situation that Neve didn’t snap, but rather said, ‘Maybe we can do that tomorrow. Got any other suggestions?’
Emma sighed and rattled off a number of ideas including a trip to Liberty Island to see the famous monument, an authentic Mexican restaurant, the New York Public Library, and the Museum of Sex. Normally Emma would never have considered entering a place like the Museum of Sex.
Flick looked to Neve—they were getting good at speaking with their eyes. Surely a museum wouldn’t require too much physical exertion? And she had to admit this one piqued her interest. They could grab some lunch afterwards and stretch the eating out as long as possible.
‘I’m up for the Museum of Sex,’ Neve said.
‘Me too.’ Flick forced a smile. Right now, she’d do pretty much anything Emma asked.
They slipped on their shoes, grabbed their bags and headed downstairs via the elevators. As they emerged from the revolving doors that led out of the hotel, Flick saw a man with a laptop bag and a medium-sized suitcase waiting in the line for a cab. Her stomach tumble turned, but not in the way it had when she’d first laid eyes on him again the other night.
‘Hey guys.’ She turned to Neve and Emma. ‘Can you give me a moment? I want to go say goodbye to Jeremy.’
‘Is that him?’ she heard Emma ask as she walked the short distance to her old friend.
She tapped him on the shoulder and he swung around, eyes widening in surprise. ‘Flick? Didn’t think I’d ever see you again after the other night.’
Her cheeks heated as she remembered how she’d fled from his room without any sort of explanation. The poor man probably thought his kissing had turned her off. ‘You are a very good kisser,’ she blurted and then mentally smacked herself upside the head.
The Art of Keeping Secrets Page 25