Paper Chains

by Nicola Moriarty

  India listened as Simon explained everything to her, and then he moved on, began to talk about how when she was better from this infection, they were going to get her started on treatment again, how they would fight the cancer together, how he was going to be right by her side, and as he spoke, India began to shake her head and eventually, when she realised his eyes were focused on his hands and he wasn’t watching her, she pushed herself to speak again.

  ‘No,’ she said quietly.

  ‘. . . and there’s always clinical trials, things like that we could try.’ He hadn’t heard her.

  ‘NO,’ she said, louder this time.

  Simon looked up at her. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s too late for all of that,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m sorry, Simon. I’m dying.’

  ‘But,’ he tried desperately, ‘how do you know? How do you know if you don’t try?’ and he was crying now as he reached out to grasp her hand.

  ‘I saw a doctor a few days ago, when I first got back to WA. I’ve got a few weeks, maybe a month.’

  ‘But . . . but you don’t even seem that sick – I mean, you’ve been travelling around the world. A person who’s only got weeks to live wouldn’t be able to do that. They must have it wrong.’

  ‘They’re not wrong, Simon. I just hide it well. I’ve been increasing my painkillers more and more over the last few weeks. And I’ve been becoming weaker; I just don’t like to show it. But I’m not going to spend the small amount of time I have left racing around trying to find a cure that doesn’t exist. I’m going to spend it living.’ She waited a moment, needing a deep breath to continue speaking, and then she spoke again. ‘I understand if you don’t want to stay with me . . . if it’s too hard.’

  But instead of responding, Simon just climbed onto the bed next to her and held her tight. India didn’t cry often. Now though, the tears were streaming down her cheeks. It’s not fair, she thought, I would have married this guy if I’d had the chance.

  It was difficult over the next few days. Once India was able to leave the hospital, he couldn’t stop asking her questions. How was she feeling? Was she okay? Did she need a jumper? A hot drink? What did she want to do? Where should he take her?

  ‘Do you want to travel more? Are there things that you still want to see?’ Simon asked one afternoon, as they sat out on her veranda, watching Gingin Brook rushing past.

  ‘I’ve done enough travelling,’ she replied. ‘But I would like to spend some time by the beach. Maybe we could take a few days to head out to Rottnest Island?’

  ‘Whatever you want,’ Simon replied quickly.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ India said quietly.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You have to stop treating me like that. You have to stop giving me anything I want. You have to stop looking at me with those puppy dog eyes, like you’d do anything for me. If you want to spend these last few weeks with me, then you’re going to have to snap out of it. I want to experience a real relationship. Let’s have fights! Let’s make up. Let’s have normal, mediocre days and days where I get to make a cup of tea for you, for God’s sake.’

  Simon nodded. ‘You want a whole relationship in the space of a few weeks?’ He turned to look at her. ‘Careful what you wish for, babe.’ Then he stood up and headed inside.

  ‘Where are you going?’ India called after him.

  ‘You’ll see,’ he yelled back.

  Inside, Simon hesitated by the phone. He had an idea, but he needed some help to make it happen. Before he could bring himself to make the call though, he had to take a minute to gather himself. Ever since that day at the hospital, when India had finally been able to convince him that this really was it, that he wasn’t going to be able to save her, he had at least four or five moments like this each day. Moments where he wanted to punch a wall. Moments where he wanted to scream and cry all at once. Why couldn’t he have met her sooner? Why couldn’t she have beaten the cancer with that first treatment? And sometimes, still, there was that edge of resentment. Why wouldn’t she just try again? For him? He knew that seemed selfish – but he couldn’t bloody help it. He was finally with the girl of his dreams and there was a time limit to their relationship, as though a ticking clock was hanging above them each night as they slept.

  He waited until the need to smash his fist through the wall had dissipated and then he picked up the phone and dialled his step-sister’s number. When she picked up he spoke quietly into the phone. ‘Hannah, I need a favour.’

  India was finding Simon to be annoyingly secretive. It was late afternoon and they were on board the ferry on their way over to Rottnest Island. A cold wind was giving her goose bumps all over her arms and legs. Lately he kept creeping away to make phone calls or ducking out on ‘errands’ – honestly, who actually ran errands? What sort of errands?

  ‘What’s going on with you?’ she asked him for what must have been the fifteenth time.

  He shrugged. ‘No idea what you mean.’

  ‘Bullshit.’ She stood still for a moment, staring at him as though trying to wear him down, and then she swung around. ‘Oh forget it, there’s a couple over there who are fighting. I’m going to go and fix them,’ she announced.

  ‘Hang on, put a jumper on first,’ Simon instructed her. India responded by poking out her tongue at him, but then she relented and pulled her hooded top on, just to please him, before striding over to the couple to introduce herself.

  When they arrived at the island and found their villa, Simon vanished – off to ‘sort something out’ – leaving India on her own in the room, feeling irritable. Being independent for so long meant it was hard for her to get used to this whole partnership thing, and she wondered if it had been a good idea to decide to spend every waking minute of her last few weeks in this world with a guy that she had, in truth, only known for about five minutes. But then she remembered how good it felt to fall asleep each night with his body curled protectively around hers, how nice it was to kiss a man who sent fireworks shooting through her veins each time his lips touched hers – and she thought, Yeah, I’m doing the right thing.

  There was a knock on the door and India wandered over to answer it. When she opened it, though, there was no one there, just a note on the floor. She picked it up and unfolded it, reading its contents as she walked back over to the bed.

  Get changed and come meet me by the lagoon.Wear that green dress, you know, the one with all the sparkly bits.All right – I know you’re going to wear whatever you want to wear, but if you happen to want to wear the green one, that would be great. Oh and don’t forget a jacket; it’s cold.See you soon.x

  India smiled. Damn straight I’ll wear whatever I want, she thought. He had her intrigued though, and after checking through her clothes, she conceded that the green dress was the best choice if they were going to be doing something special. She ran her fingers through her short hair, spiking it up, put on her favourite hoop earrings, grabbed a silvery shawl for her shoulders, and headed out, hoping she would be able to easily find her way to the lagoon.

  The sun was setting as she followed the wooden boardwalk through the bush and around to the lagoon. As she came closer she could see a small white tent set up, surrounded by flaming torches. A man was standing out the front, strumming away on a ukulele. As she reached the entrance to the tent, Simon stepped out to meet her. He was wearing an open necked suit with a dark green shirt. He caught her eye for just a second, and then he dropped to his knee in front of her.

  India was caught off guard and almost reached a hand out to help him, thinking he’d tripped. But then she saw the box in his hand. As she watched, he lifted the lid and looked nervously up at her.

  ‘India-Lily,’ he said, and she wanted to cry at the formality in his voice. ‘Will you marry me?’

  ‘But . . . how?’ she began. ‘Simon, there’s no time.’

  �
��Pretend there was a way,’ he replied. ‘Would you?’

  India felt a tear slip down her cheek. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, standing up and slipping the ring on her finger. ‘Because we’re going to do it now . . . if you want, that is?’ And he pulled her into the tent. She laughed when she saw the small group of people – Hannah with her family, the rest of Simon’s sisters and his parents, plus a few of her old friends from Gingin. At the front of the tent, a celebrant stood waiting for them.

  He whispered in her ear as they walked towards the front of the tent, ‘I know I’ve sprung this on you, but. . . are you happy?’

  She nodded quickly. She honestly couldn’t remember having been happier.

  The ceremony was short and sweet. For the vows, they each just spoke from the heart, made jokes about the short time they’d known one another. At first India had expected Simon to avoid talking about the fact that their marriage was going to be so short-lived. But he didn’t, and India appreciated him for it. He looked into her eyes and held her hands and his voice was filled with conviction as he spoke. ‘I know that our time together is short, but for me, our marriage will never be over. For as long as I live, I will carry you with me, India. Your energy, your fire, everything that is you – that massive spark of life that is India-Lily, will always be safe, in here,’ and he took her hand and pressed it gently to his chest.

  And then the celebrant let out a sob and everyone laughed. Through gushing tears the celebrant told them to kiss and Simon actually spun her around and dipped her for the kiss, just like in one of those old black and white romance movies and everyone whooped and cheered.

  Afterwards they ate dinner at a restaurant overlooking the beach and Simon admitted to India that even though they’d had a celebrant come and officiate the wedding ceremony, it wasn’t actually entirely legal as he hadn’t been able to get the paperwork through in time. But India didn’t care. She wasn’t interested in some certificate that told her she was married; all she needed was the memory of those words and the image of his face as he’d said them to her.

  ‘So,’ said India, as she moved around the table to sit next to Hannah. ‘This is your beautiful family, huh?’ They looked across at Liam, who had Gracie curled up his lap and one arm stretched out to absentmindedly rock Ethan in his stroller.

  ‘Yep. That’s them.’

  ‘You’re lucky, Hannah,’ said India, and Hannah reached out an arm to pull her friend into a hug. ‘I know,’ she replied.

  There was gentle jazz music being played throughout the restaurant, and after dinner, Simon pulled India to her feet. ‘Dance with me,’ he said. India grinned, ‘Only if you can get Hannah and Liam up as well.’ Carol was quick to offer to take over rocking Ethan’s stroller and she whispered to India on the way past, ‘I’m sure I saw him stirring a minute ago, might have to pick him up for a cuddle.’

  The four of them danced together between the tables, and India didn’t care that other diners were watching them with interest. She was having too much fun to be embarrassed. But after a few minutes she felt breathless and had to sit back down again.

  The rest of the night was spent eating white chocolate mud cake for dessert, and getting to know Simon’s sisters. India sat around the end of the table with Amy, Riley and Hannah, listening to Riley enthusiastically retelling her side of the story about finding India’s letter. She enjoyed watching Hannah with her stepsisters, seeing how much she had changed since those first days in London.

  They were back in their room by midnight. Most nights India felt like Cinderella, unable to stay out past twelve for fear of transforming – only in her case it was fear of collapsing in a heap if she didn’t get into bed by a reasonable hour. Their bed was luxuriously soft and India sank into it as soon as they made it through the door without bothering to take off her dress.

  ‘You need anything?’ Simon checked, leaning worriedly over her.

  ‘Just you,’ she responded, and she pulled him to her, laughing as he buried his face into her neck, kissing her ravenously.

  When they made love it was slow and soft and the most intense experience of India’s entire life. The way they held eye contact as Simon gently rocked above her sent shivers of delight through her body, and when they climaxed it was together – as though they were one.

  Afterwards, they both lay flat on their backs, breathing hard. ‘That. Was . . .’ Simon stopped, lost for words.

  ‘Incredible?’ India suggested. ‘Amazing, inspired, mind-blowing?’

  ‘All of the above,’ he replied.

  They lay still in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the ocean, and eventually India spoke. ‘Simon,’ she said, her voice small.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I don’t want to fall asleep,’ she said. ‘Because if I fall asleep then tonight will be over and once tonight is over, I’m just one day closer to – to –’ and then she dissolved into tears and Simon rolled over and held her tight as she cried into him.

  ‘Oh God, I wish I could take this away for you. I wish I could take all of it away and make it better and make it okay,’ he said desperately.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t mean to ruin tonight . . . I just . . . I can’t seem to stop crying.’

  ‘Don’t you dare apologise.’

  They stayed awake for as long as they could. But as the first rays of light crept over the horizon and into their room, India finally drifted off. Simon stayed awake for much longer though, his arms wrapped around her body, his fingers lightly stroking her skin. He was trying to impress every part of this moment into his memory.

  India was supposed to be in bed. They were back in the house in Gingin and over the last few days her condition had been rapidly deteriorating. Her limbs were becoming weaker and weaker and she found it so strange that she couldn’t just leap out of bed and start doing star-jumps if she so wished. That she couldn’t skip or run. That she could barely walk to the bathroom. At times she found herself becoming very confused as well. Once she sat up in bed and called out for her grandmother and she was so sure it was her voice that she had heard coming down the hallway towards her. But then Simon appeared and as she looked at him it was as though the entire world rushed forward five years as she realised that she wasn’t in bed with a bad cold waiting for a bowl of her grandmother’s minestrone soup, but that her grandmother was gone, and that soon she would be gone too. And then she burst into tears because surely it wasn’t fair that five years could just vanish like that, with a click of her fingers.

  Right now though it was one of those times when she was being stubborn. She was sick of being in bed. She was tired of staying indoors. She needed some fresh air. She crept out onto the veranda with a blanket pulled tight around her, knowing full well that Simon would probably yell at her for getting out of bed and walking so far on her own.

  But it was so hard not to say, ‘But, Simon, once upon a time I could have crossed that distance in just a few strides. Once upon a time, I could have danced across it.’ She wanted to shake him, wanted to ask, ‘Don’t you realise? This isn’t me. I’m not weak, I’m strong. I travel the world, I fix people, I talk to strangers, I make new friends and then I move on.’ She didn’t want the world to keep moving around her while she had to stay still. It didn’t feel right. As she tried to step down the stairs to walk out onto the grass she nearly stumbled, and that’s when Simon appeared in front of her. His eyes opened wide and his brow creased and it looked as though he was about to turn into a thunderstorm. So India had purposely made herself appear frail and weak so that instead his brow smoothed and he became a warm sunset as he pulled her into his arms and whispered, ‘You are in so much trouble right now.’ But he hugged her gently and his arms told her that they were glad to see her anyway.

  ‘Take me closer to the river please,’ she said. And without a word he scooped her up and carried her across the grass. />
  ‘You should have told me you wanted to come out,’ he said as he carried her. ‘I would have brought you the whole way. And are you warm enough like this?’ But she just ignored him until they were right at the river’s edge, and then they sat down together and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  One of the nurses who had been coming out to check on her each day had told her that when the time came, she would know. India was beginning to think she was right. There was a strange feeling creeping over her. As though her entire being was gathering together, as though she were preparing for a new journey, and she wondered if she should tell Simon, if she should warn him that this was it. That it was their final goodbye. But then she thought, Well what if I get it wrong and this isn’t the end and I hang around for a few more days and then it’s all awkward between us – and she snorted with laughter at the thought.

  ‘What?’ said Simon. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she replied. ‘Just a private joke. Don’t ask, you won’t like it – it’s morbid.’

  ‘Oh great,’ he replied, shaking his head at her.

  ‘What should we do tomorrow?’ he asked then. ‘I could take you out somewhere if you like? The nurse said it was okay, as long as you have plenty of painkillers and we take a wheelchair. We could have lunch somewhere nice. Or . . . we could head down to the city, see a museum if you want? Or the theatre? Want me to check what shows are on at the moment?’

  Should I tell him? India wondered. Or should I let him believe that I still have a tomorrow?

  She took in a breath with difficulty and then responded, ‘A show sounds nice, let’s do that.’ And then she took one last look at the river and closed her eyes. She fell asleep against Simon’s shoulder and she dreamed of trips to the theatre and to the museum. She dreamed of lunches in cafés and she dreamed of concerts and holidays by the beach and of a future with her husband. And in her dreams, he didn’t need to carry her, and he didn’t need to push her in a wheelchair. In her dreams she could walk. She could run and dance. In her dreams, she could grow old and the only time that Simon carried her was when he was doing it for a laugh. And in her dreams they had two children, boys with blond curly hair, and later, grandchildren, small plump grandchildren who sat on her lap and played with her necklace and called her Gran.