The Big Five O

by Jane Wenham-Jones

‘No rush,’ Fay waved a dismissive hand. ‘Just give us a call when you’re ready. I’ll cancel collection. That’s not what I’m here for,’ she added. ‘I was wanting to know about Sherie.’

  Alison gave an almost imperceptible warning shake of her head. ‘Come and see the garden,’ she said.

  ‘It’s got a climbing frame!’ yelled Oliver. He gave Fay a sudden hug around her middle. ‘Do you want to try?’

  Fay smiled at him. ‘I might just do that. You show me first.’

  As Oliver raced ahead of them, through the French doors, Alison looked back at the older woman. ‘Want to put the kettle on, Mum?’

  ‘Great space,’ said Fay, looking at the lawn and the mature fruit trees. Oliver was already at the top of a vast wooden structure at the end, with a rope ladder dangling from one end.

  ‘That was all here already,’ Alison said. ‘It’s sort of what swung it. No pun intended.’

  Fay nodded, then turned to look at the other woman. ‘So – your sister?’

  Alison sighed. ‘I couldn’t say anything in there. As far as mum is concerned, Sherie is unexpectedly away working. She made me promise.’

  ‘And where is she really?’

  Alison looked down the lawn at the climbing frame. ‘I really can’t say.’

  ‘You can.’ Fay was firm. ‘I’ve got a pretty good idea already. But I need the details.’

  ‘I honestly can’t give you any.’

  As Oliver whooped from the end of the garden, Fay looked at Alison severely. ‘I spotted her at the hospital. When I was there having a mammogram.’

  She saw from Alison’s face that she’d hit home. ‘So,’ she went on briskly, ‘whatever is going on with Sherie, you need to tell me about it. And you need to tell me right now.’ She paused as she felt Alison hesitate. ‘Because,’ Fay said, ‘I can help.’

  ‘Will I do?’

  Fay had forgotten that Len was coming round to take her to the party. He’d been so fervent and adamant about it, it had been easier to say yes. By then, she’d just wanted to pack him off home so she could throw away the soggy tissues and process the whole, humiliating scene.

  Now looking at him in his suit and tie, she made herself give him a grin. ‘My God yes Leonard, you do scrub up well!’

  ‘So do you!’ he said.

  Fay knew she looked good. The red dress went well with her dark hair and she’d made her eyes up to be dark and smoky with a lipstick that perfectly matched the fabric and shoes. Fay felt better than she’d expected to.

  ‘I want to drive you there,’ Len had said. ‘We can leave the car down by Bleak House overnight.’

  Fay had shaken her head. ‘I can walk there in ten minutes.’

  ‘You’ll be in heels and there’s rain threatened.’ Len had taken her hand again and this time she had let him. ‘It would make me proud to walk in with you on my arm,’ he explained. ‘To dance with you. And take care of you so you have a wonderful evening.’

  Now he looked disappointed as she explained. She gave his arm a brief hard squeeze. ‘You can give me a lift,’ she said, ‘but then you’ll have to go ahead on your own.’

  Len raised his eyebrows. ‘Can’t I wait for you?’

  ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be. And I need you to go and tell Charlotte I’ll be on my way and to hold the fort. I need you to help her if she needs it. Tell her I’ll explain when I get there.’

  Fay smiled at him – feeling a rush of warmth for this kind man who put up with her so unwaveringly. ‘I will see you there and I will dance with you,’ she added firmly. ‘But this is something I’ve got to do first.’

  Chapter 33

  Fay got out of the car and walked into Spencer, the private wing of the QEQM hospital in Margate. Nodding at the receptionist, she went through the double doors to one side and up the stairs to the ward.

  There was one nurse at the nurse’s station, looking in a filing cabinet. While her back was still turned, Fay began to walk purposefully down the corridor looking at the doors.

  A uniformed figure sprang from nowhere. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘I’m here to see Sherie Wilkins.’

  ‘And you are?’

  The sister, who Fay saw from the name badge was called Helen Stewart, had positioned herself to block Fay’s way.

  ‘Her friend,’ said Fay shortly.

  Helen Stewart surveyed her.

  ‘I know she’s here,’ said Fay. ‘I’ve just seen her sister. I know she’s had the op and–’

  The nurse shook her head. ‘I’m afraid I can neither confirm nor–’

  Fay decided to plead. ‘Look please – just tell her that Fay is here and I need to tell her something. That it’s very, very important?’

  Helen Stewart hesitated, but Fay sensed a chink. ‘And then tell her if she doesn’t let me in, she’s in deep shit.’

  Helen Stewart raised an eyebrow and appraised Fay a bit more.

  Fay beamed.

  ‘Wait here,’ the Sister said eventually. ‘While I pass on that tempting offer …’

  She returned moments later and gave Fay a small quirky smile.

  ‘Room eight.’ She hesitated again. ‘Be gentle – she’s a bit tearful.’

  Sherie was propped up in bed wearing what looked like a silk pyjama top with the top buttons undone. Beneath it, Fay could see the dressing that covered the top of her right breast. She was pale and pink-eyed, her blonde hair twisted on top of her head in a comb. Fay pulled up the chair and sat down beside her, glancing around the en suite room.

  ‘You’re in the lap of luxury then? No queuing for the bathroom with the proles …’

  Sherie smiled weakly. ‘Yes, Geoffrey has always been good about medical insurance. I’ve only ever used it to have a wart removed about five years ago. I didn’t expect– but I’m so grateful now,’ she went on. ‘Meant I was done quickly. How did you find out? I made Alison promise–’

  ‘Don’t blame her – I’d seen you going into outpatients when I was here myself. And then I bullied it out of her …’

  Sherie shook her head. ‘She shouldn’t have.’ Her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘She should. I told her why it was important I spoke to you. Why I could help.’

  ‘It’s kind of you, but there’s nothing …’

  ‘I’ve been through it myself.’

  Sherie sat up straighter, her eyes wide. ‘You have?’

  ‘Nine years ago. It’s an absolute bastard thing to happen but you get through. I did and so will you.’

  ‘But you’ve never said …’

  Fay shrugged. ‘I told Charlotte once. But I asked her to keep it quiet. Didn’t want a fuss. Still felt a bit strange about it all then. But – it’s hardly exclusive. Every bugger gets breast cancer these days.’

  Sherie was still staring at her.

  ‘I wasn’t going to be defined by it,’ Fay continued. ‘And you won’t be either. You’ll come out the other side and be all the stronger. We’re not victims, are we?’

  The tears in Sherie’s eyes had spilled over. ‘But they’ve taken the lymph nodes under my arm. They’ve taken them out with the lump. I’m keeping the breast but they say I need chemotherapy to be safe …’ She began to cry softly. ‘I’m going to lose all my hair …’

  Fay got out of the chair and sat on the bed. She grasped Sherie’s hand. ‘Ditto. But it grows back. Look!’ she grasped her own shiny locks. ‘Thick eh? And my eyelashes are better than they were before. Hairs on my legs are a bit sparse but it means I save a fortune on waxing …’

  She gripped Sherie’s hand more tightly. ‘I will get you through this – we all will. It will be OK. Is it oestrogen-led? What are they saying?’

  Sherie swallowed, picking up a tissue from the mound beside her and scrubbing at her face.

  ‘The surgeon said if I have the chemo and take the drugs after, the survival rates are high.’ She gulped. ‘But no guarantees.’

  ‘There never are – but hang onto the statistics. I’m still he
re and so is a woman I got friendly with who went through it at the same time. Saw her only the other day in Waitrose – looking marvellous!’

  ‘I still can’t believe it.’

  ‘No, it takes some getting your head around.’

  ‘Do you remember that time we were all in Charlotte’s garden?’ Sherie blew her nose. ‘She’d had a barbecue and there was just us left. And someone said – it may have been Roz – that one in four of us get breast cancer now so statistically it would probably happen to one of us.’

  ‘Cheery!’ said Fay

  ‘And Charlotte said: ‘it will probably be me’. And do you know, I thought it would be her too. If it had to be one of us. Because Charlotte smokes, and doesn’t care what she eats, and never exercises and I’ve always looked after myself …’ Sherie began to cry afresh ‘Why has it happened to me? I’ve already missed out on being married, never had children. I’ve spent hours in the gym, and drinking organic hand-pressed fucking smoothies.’ Sherie snorted, half laughing half crying. ‘It doesn’t seem fair.’

  ‘That’s because it isn’t.’ Fay was matter-of-fact. ‘It’s not how life works. You know that.’ She raised her eyebrows at Sherie. ‘Teetotal vegans drop dead with lung and liver cancer, while old fuckers on forty fags and a bottle of whisky go on for ever. Don’t wind yourself up with that one.’

  ‘I keep thinking I’ve done something wrong.’ Sherie gave a half sob.

  Fay was still holding her hand. ‘You’ve been unlucky. Like I was. I went into an early menopause and was mainlining HRT. That might have caused it. I was overweight for a while too – was it that? Or the fact that I smoke or drink too much red wine? I don’t know and I don’t care. I got it, and I said I’d do anything I was told to, to get rid of it again. I wasn’t interested in why – just what was going to happen to put it right.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be smoking still, then.’ Sherie sniffed and frowned.

  ‘Of course I shouldn’t. Or drinking, probably. But–’ Fay stopped. ‘I’ve had some real shit go down in the last ten years,’ she said, after a moment. ‘I want to enjoy life.’

  ‘But–’

  ‘But, actually, I’ve already decided I’m having my last fag on my fiftieth. Then I’m quitting. You can’t get away with things in the same way when you’re older – I know that. Though don’t quote me back at myself,’ she added reprovingly. ‘And don’t nag me!’ Fay looked at her sternly. ‘Or I won’t.’

  Sherie gave a small smile. ‘You sound like my nephew Oliver.’

  ‘I like him,’ said Fay. ‘Saw him earlier.’

  ‘He is honoured!’ Sherie smiled some more. ‘I love him to bits … Fay,’ she went on uncertainly. ‘Did you never want children?’

  Fay was saved by Helen Stewart bustling into the room. ‘Nice to see you looking a bit brighter,’ she said to Sherie. ‘I just need to check that drain …’

  ‘Need to make a phone call,’ Fay took the opportunity to shoot out into the corridor. Her heart was pounding as she dialled. She’d recognised the desperation in Sherie’s eyes. The fear and disbelief and something else. The same emotion that had filled her nine years previously when she’d sat in a small white room and been told that the thickening in her armpit wasn’t a gland after all, that the slightly misshapen look to her left breast wasn’t in her imagination. That now she really could kiss goodbye to all her hopes and dreams.

  She’d expected to feel misery and rage but the feeling that had flooded her and never really gone away, was shame …

  Roz was glad she’d put comfort above style and was wearing flat sandals with her long, colourful dress, as she took the stairs two at a time and almost sprinted along the corridor. Behind her, Charlotte had taken her heels off and was puffing behind her in bare feet.

  Fay appeared in front of her, standing in a doorway. ‘In here.’

  Roz shot past her, gazing aghast at her friend. ‘Oh Sherie – why didn’t you say?’

  ‘I don’t know – I didn’t want to believe it – it was like if I said nothing to anyone, it might not be real …’

  ‘But going through all this on your own–’ Roz sat on the edge of the bed and took Sherie’s hand. ‘When did you tell Alison? Has she been supporting you?’

  Sherie shook her head. ‘Only the other day when I got the date for the op. So she could feed Marquis.’

  Roz frowned. ‘Why not Nate? I went to your place and he was checking on him but he had no idea where you were …’

  ‘Oh. Good. But no, I couldn’t ask him. It’s all very awkward.’

  ‘Why? He was very concerned. He clearly adores you Sherie – why not let him–’

  ‘You didn’t tell him anything, did you?’ Sherie looked at her in panic.

  ‘I didn’t know myself then. Oh Sherie,’ Roz burst out emotionally. ‘I wish you’d told us. We could have been looking after you.’

  ‘Well, we will be from now on,’ said Charlotte firmly. ‘As Fay says – we’re going to be right there with you. Now what can we bring you?’

  Sherie shook her head. ‘I’m going home tomorrow. I can’t wait to see Marquis.’

  ‘And you’ll have to see Nate – he’s going to be watching out for you – he was so worried. I had to take his number and say I’d let him know so …’

  ‘Nate is so lovely,’ Sherie said sadly. ‘But how could I let him … I mean he could have any number of beautiful young things. He doesn’t want to be saddled with an older, sick woman. Who’s bald!’

  ‘I think he just might, actually,’ put in Roz.

  ‘You might not lose your hair anyway,’ said Fay. ‘You can try the ice-cap – some women do and the hair just thins a bit.’

  ‘I feel like now I’m going to be an invalid for ever …’ Sherie wailed. ‘It’s all going to take months.’

  ‘And then, when it’s over, you’ll be the same strong, healthy woman you were before,’ said Fay firmly. ‘When the scars heal and you’ve had all the drugs …’

  ‘And radiotherapy …’

  ‘That’s not a problem. Takes longer to get your top on and off than the treatment does.’

  ‘And then they said tamoxifen.’

  ‘I take a pill every day.’

  Roz shook her head in wonder. ‘I’d never have guessed …’

  Fay shrugged. ‘Why would you?’

  ‘What about work?’ Charlotte asked. ‘You’re going to have to tell Geoffrey.’

  ‘I have. He kept phoning me. I had to answer in the end. He said he thought it all sounded strange even before you double-checked with him. I still felt a bit woozy from the aesthetic and I didn’t have the strength not to tell him.’ Sherie looked moved. ‘He was so good. He says I can have as much time off as I want – he says to not even think about work – to take the next few months off.’ Sherie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘He said he’d still pay me just the same.’

  ‘Well you’ve been good to him too,’ said Charlotte. ‘He couldn’t run that business without you.’

  ‘No,’ Sherie shifted into a more upright position. ‘And he wants to do even less in the future. He was thinking about taking someone else on, even before this. And,’ Sherie looked at Roz, ‘I’ve suggested you.’

  Roz gaped. ‘Oh my God, I couldn’t.’

  ‘Of course you could! I’d help you from home while we trained you up – but you’ve got a good instinct – you’ll easily get the hang of it.’

  ‘But I can’t talk about art like you can,’ said Roz, shaking her head.

  Sherie smiled. ‘Oh, you’ll soon pick that up. Just look thoughtful and talk about ‘new layers of meaning’ and ‘a complex internal structure’ or ‘a fresh visual vocabulary’. That covers most bases.’

  She put on a faux-studious voice. ‘He shines a searing light on a hitherto neglected corner of contemporary commodity culture,’ she snorted. ‘That’s a good one. Heard it the other day.’

  ‘In other words, just come out with any old bollocks,’ put in Fay.

 
Sherie looked serious again. ‘Oh Roz, please say yes. I’d feel so upset at the thought of someone else doing my job but if you were doing it … And as I said, Geoffrey wants to step back in the next couple of years – he needs two of us – so you’d still have a job when I come back. He’ll pay a decent basic and then you get something on each deal.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ put in Charlotte. ‘Fab for everyone!’

  Roz felt the excitement flare through her. Then she remembered.

  ‘But the travelling – you’re always flying off somewhere.’

  ‘Only for a day or two at a time.’

  ‘But there’s Amy. I know she’s nearly sixteen but–’

  ‘Amy can stay with me,’ Charlotte said immediately. ‘I’d enjoy having another teenager in the house again.’ She smiled. ‘I loved it when Bex was sixteen. Doing each other’s nails – watching crap television. She used to be obsessed with that terrible series about all those super rich brats getting million-pound parties. We used to get popcorn. It’s not the same watching it on my own.’ Charlotte looked wistful. ‘It was a great age …’

  ‘That’s not how you described it at the time,’ said Roz, smiling too.

  ‘I’m sure it was,’ Charlotte said firmly. ‘Anyway – Amy is welcome with us any time. We’d love to have her.’ She looked at Roz and spoke more quietly. ‘I need someone else to look after …’

  Sherie gave a sudden squeal. ‘Are you lot looking at the time? The party’s started!’

  Charlotte rose unhurriedly from the bed. ‘It’s OK. I’ve left Laura and Andrew in charge, and also instructed Roger to help until we get back …’

  ‘It was more important to be here to see you–’ Roz grabbed Sherie’s hands again. ‘We all love you.’

  ‘Don’t – you’re going to make me cry again.’

  ‘I still find you a pain in the arse.’ Fay grinned and held her hand out in a high five.

  Helen Stewart put her head round the door, raising her eyebrows at the sight of all three of them around the bed.

  ‘Don’t worry – we’re going now,’ said Fay.

  Helen Stewart looked at Sherie. ‘There’s someone called Nathanial here to see you. Says he’s your brother.’