Three Amazing Things About You

by Jill Mansell

  ‘And if his organs aren’t used, it’s just such a waste.’

  ‘I don’t want his organs to be used,’ sobbed Lena. ‘I don’t want Zander to die. I can’t bear this.’

  ‘I know, I know. Look, I’m going now.’ Getting to her feet, Flo hesitated. But today had been the most unimaginably awful day of both their lives. At the front door, she turned and gave Lena a hug.

  To begin with, Lena stiffened and leaned back; it was like putting your arms around a clothes airer. Then, with a huge gulping sob, she clung tightly to Flo and buried her face in her shoulder. For several seconds they stood together and held each other, both weeping for the man they loved.

  After a while, Lena mumbled something unintelligible and Flo had to say, ‘What?’

  ‘The accident. It was my fault.’ Utterly bereft, Lena choked out, ‘If I hadn’t phoned him, none of this would have h-h-happened.’

  ‘Sshh, don’t even think that.’

  The tears were flowing faster. ‘But everything would be all right if it wasn’t for me!’

  ‘Listen, you can’t blame yourself. I didn’t want him to get out of bed and pick you up,’ said Flo. ‘Don’t you think I wish I’d tried harder to stop him? Of course I do! But does that mean it’s my fault?’

  Helplessly, Lena shook her head. ‘N-no . . .’

  ‘There you go then. And it wasn’t your fault either. It just happened.’ Her own heart breaking, Flo wiped away the tears sliding down Lena’s face; she wasn’t sure if she believed what she was saying, but she knew she had to say it. ‘That’s why it’s called an accident.’

  Dozing fitfully in her bed, Flo was woken at four in the morning by her phone. For a split second she thought it must be the hospital ringing with news of Zander – No, please don’t tell me he’s died before I can say goodbye – then she saw Lena’s name flash up on the screen.

  Although it still could be that. Lena was the next of kin.

  Her mouth was dry. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Just so you know, I’ve spoken to the doctor on call. I told her I’ll sign the forms so the organs can be donated.’

  ‘Really? Thank you.’ Weak with gratitude, Flo saw Jeremy’s luminous green eyes gleaming at her from the foot of the bed. ‘I promise you won’t regret it.’

  Lena’s voice was croaky with grief and exhaustion. ‘I hope you’re right.’

  Flo buried her nose in the pillowcase next to her and breathed in the faint, heartbreakingly familiar scent of the cologne Zander had always worn. How she was going to get through this, she couldn’t begin to imagine. But somehow, because there was no other way, she knew she had to.

  Exhaling slowly, she spoke with feeling. ‘I know I’m right.’

  Chapter 48

  The moment Hallie saw who was calling, her heart went into overdrive. Jonathan was her transplant coordinator and it was eleven o’clock on Monday evening. All things considered, it was unlikely he’d be ringing at this time of night for a friendly chat.

  Six minutes later, Hallie pushed open her mother’s bedroom door.

  ‘Mum? Would you be OK to give me a lift?’

  Fay was sitting up in bed with her hair in squashy pink rollers, reading a book and eating her favourite crisps. She put down the book and looked puzzled. ‘What? You mean now? Where on earth do you want to go?’

  Hallie was trembling all over. ‘To the hospital. Jonathan just called. They think they’ve got a match for me.’

  ‘OH MY GOD . . .’ Fay clapped both hands to her mouth. Crisps went flying and the book hit the floor with a thud as the duvet was thrown back and she scrambled out of bed. Then her arms were around Hallie and they were both shaking, unable to take in the fact that at last the call had come.

  ‘It’s not definite yet. It might not be a good enough match.’ Hallie knew this was a possibility, but just now, she wasn’t even considering it; deep down inside she was convinced that this was it, the surgery would go ahead.

  ‘Oh my darling, I can’t believe it’s happening. After all this time. Oh my God, look at my hands . . .’ Fay held them up so they could both see the tremor.

  ‘Are you OK to drive? Or shall we get a taxi?’

  ‘No, no, I’ll be fine. Give me five minutes to get dressed . . . oh God, my brain, I don’t know what to think. I’m in shock . . .’

  ‘Oh Mum.’ Hallie hugged her again and heard crunching underfoot. ‘We’re treading crisps into the carpet.’

  ‘My beautiful baby girl.’ As she held her tight, Fay whispered into her ear, ‘I love you so much.’

  It was over, it was really and truly over. And she’d been right about yesterday being the very worst day of her life, but Flo knew that harder days still – and many of them – were yet to come.

  It was now early morning, the rain of the last few days had cleared and the sun was coming up over the rooftops of Clifton. As if sensing that she needed contact, Jeremy was in her arms, purring and gently kneading his paws against her chest.

  And he never did that.

  Across the square, Lena was in Zander’s flat with Giles. Yesterday they’d somehow got through what had needed to be done, and everyone at the hospital had been wonderfully kind. A specialist nurse in organ donation had arrived from the transplant centre and arranged everything. She’d been lovely, patiently explaining each step of the procedure whilst organising the completion of all the necessary tests and investigations. Then, when the documentation had been taken care of and the last details arranged, Flo and Lena had separately said their final goodbyes to Zander.

  After that, he’d been transferred to the operating theatre and the surgery had been carried out. From there, his body – oh God, that word – had been taken to the mortuary, and the specialist nurse, having personally packed the organs due for transplant, had arranged for them to be delivered to wherever they’d be used.

  She couldn’t have been kinder or more empathetic, and it had helped.

  Well, as much as anything could.

  Out there somewhere, other people were getting the chance of life.

  Please God, let them appreciate it.

  A tear slid down Flo’s cheek and dripped off her chin. It landed on the top of Jeremy’s head, causing him to twitch his ears. Then her phone beeped and with a yowl of irritation he wriggled free, leaping to the floor.

  Flo unlocked her phone and read the email that had just arrived.

  Oh my dearest darling girl, I’ve just heard the sad news about your lovely man. What a terrible tragedy, I’m so sorry. I know how hopelessly inadequate these words are, but the sentiment is heartfelt all the same. You won’t be working for a while, understandably, but if you ever need to be with people who know how you feel, do drop by – most of us here at Nairn House have been through what you’re going through now.

  Much love, Margot xxx

  Oh God, the pain was just unbearable. On Saturday afternoon they’d all met Zander for the first time. Now it was Tuesday morning and he no longer existed. How was she ever going to get through this?

  Alone in the flat, crushed with grief and despair, Flo covered her face with her hands and wept.

  ‘They’ve found a heart for Rory. All the tests have been carried out and it’s apparently a good match. They’re taking him to theatre in two hours.’ Tasha met Joe at the entrance to the ward and saw his expression change as he took in what she was babbling at him. ‘I know! Isn’t it amazing? I mean, I’m terrified, obviously, but it’s his only chance. I didn’t think it was going to happen . . . and now it is . . .’

  ‘Thank God.’ Joe’s face grew flushed with emotion as they hugged, and she felt the tension in his body subside. ‘Oh thank God.’

  ‘Don’t squeeze me too hard. I might be sick.’

  ‘Sorry. I’m just so relieved.’ He let her go, and she saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes. ‘I never thought they’d find one in time either.’

  Tasha nodded, overcome and unable to speak. Whilst hoping for the best, they’d both been forced to co
ntemplate the worst-case scenario.

  ‘And now they have,’ said Joe. ‘They’ve got a heart for him.’ His voice was unsteady. ‘Do they know where it came from?’

  ‘No idea.’ Tasha shook her head. ‘Maybe they do, but they wouldn’t tell us that.’

  ‘Now, sign your name next to each of the crosses,’ Jonathan instructed, ‘and we’re done.’

  Hallie signed the form in front of her. Since arriving at the hospital in the early hours, she’d been settled into her room and had loads of blood samples taken from her by various members of staff. Swabs had also been taken from almost every section of her body. After that, she’d been showered, shaved and washed again with pink chlorhexidine liquid. Then they’d waited . . . and waited . . . while the rest of the tests were carried out.

  Finally the news they’d been waiting for had come through. The transplant would be going ahead. And it wasn’t just going to be lungs, either; she’d be receiving a new heart too.

  It wasn’t that much of a shock; Hallie had heard of this happening to other people before now. Basically, it was easier for the surgeon to transplant a heart and lungs than a pair of lungs on their own. And in turn, she would donate her own heart to someone else who needed it. This was known as a domino transplant. Her lungs might be damaged by the cystic fibrosis, but her heart was as healthy as anyone else’s.

  If anything went wrong after the operation, though, you weren’t allowed to ask for your old heart back.

  She’d just signed away her rights to it for ever.

  Unexpectedly, the earlier fear and anxiety had receded. Thirty minutes from now, she would be wheeled into the operating theatre; all they could do was hope for the best outcome. It was what they’d been waiting and praying for for years.

  Hallie smiled up at Jonathan and handed him back the ballpoint pen. ‘Thanks. Tell them to take good care of it.’

  ‘Don’t you worry.’ Jonathan winked reassuringly as he prepared to leave the room. ‘I’ll make sure they do.’

  And then she was alone again in the small grey and white medical-smelling room. Her mum was outside making phone calls to everyone she knew, despite the fact that it was only six thirty and most of them were still asleep with their mobiles switched to silent. Hallie had left messages with her own friends and had also uploaded to her website the confession she’d written earlier. In this brave new electronic world, followers of www.threethingsaboutyou.com from around the world had already begun to respond, sending lovely comments and wishing her luck. And yes, most of the messages might have been sent by strangers, but each one still felt like a tiny supportive hug. They might not know her in real life, but their kind words were heartfelt nevertheless.

  And they helped, they really did help.

  A text came through at that moment, from Luke: Hey, just heard the news. Good luck. How are you feeling?

  Short and to the point, but Hallie gazed at her phone and pictured him saying the words. Where was he right now? Still in bed? Downstairs in his kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil? Was Christina there with him?

  Whichever, it didn’t matter. It was just nice of him to have sent the text. Feeling warm and cared for and unbelievably lucky, she pressed Reply and typed: Thanks, everything’s great. Can’t wait for it to happen. Today’s the first day of the rest of my life.

  She paused, smiling, imagining the worried look on his face. Then added: Really, I’m fine. Xxx

  All the other texts she’d sent this morning had ended with three kisses. It wasn’t until she’d pressed Send that Hallie realised she’d done it again.

  Whoops. Oh well, maybe another time it would be more embarrassing. But today, frankly, she had other, more pressing issues on her mind.

  Chapter 49

  Flo made her way along Princess Victoria Street in Clifton, moving sideways to avoid an overweight man with a whippet on a red lead. Passing the florist’s shop, she waved and mouthed hello to the friendly girl who ran it. The mingled scents from the galvanized-silver buckets of flowers reminded her of something she really didn’t need reminding of, seeing as it would be imprinted on her brain for ever. This time two weeks ago, she’d been standing outside the crematorium after Zander’s funeral, gazing at the rows of wreaths and cellophane-wrapped bouquets, while fretful spots of rain had fallen and grey clouds had scudded by overhead.

  Today, in contrast, the temperature was up in the eighties, an unrelenting sun was beating down and Flo’s hair was sticking to the back of her neck. She’d finished her shift at Nairn House and now needed to pay a visit to the supermarket. She’d initially thought she might take a few weeks off, but it hadn’t worked out that way at all. Sitting at home with nothing to occupy her mind had turned out to be akin to solitary confinement in prison. Keeping busy was the answer, and going back to work had been a lifesaver, especially since – as Margot had so wisely pointed out – the majority of the residents of Nairn House knew just what she was going through. Nobody minded if she had a bit of a cry. They understood that she wasn’t going to be as cheerful as usual. They also kept offering her biscuits she didn’t have the appetite to eat.

  Anyway, supermarket. At least there’d be air-conditioning to look forward to. Flo took a couple of deep breaths and paused to pull the small bottle of water out of her bag. She uncapped it and took a swallow. Eurgh, warm. Even more eurgh, shoals of little black dots were starting to cloud her vision and a woolly sensation had begun to invade her brain.

  Oh God, don’t say she was going to faint; this hadn’t happened since she was a teenager during an overlong morning assembly at school. Panicking, she ducked into relatively empty Waterloo Street and leaned against the pink-stuccoed outer wall of an antiques shop. But the black dots were expanding, the buzzing in her ears was growing louder and the bones in her legs appeared to be turning to Play-Doh . . .

  The next moment, opening her eyes, she was flat out on the cobblestones with the contents of her handbag scattered around her and the now-empty plastic water bottle lying in the gutter. Someone was holding her head and simultaneously reaching for her turquoise purse.

  ‘Oh please don’t take it . . .’ Flo tried to sit up and stop them; the money wasn’t important, but the purse had been a present from Zander. ‘Please.’

  ‘I’m not stealing your purse, I’m putting it back. Have you ever fainted before?’

  ‘At school, when I was thirteen.’ Staying where she was and woozily recovering her bearings, Flo watched as the man collected up the rest of her belongings and returned them to her bag. His other hand was supporting the back of her head, keeping it off the stony ground. It took a few seconds before the penny dropped. ‘Oh, it’s you. Hello.’

  She might not know his name, Flo realised, but he was no stranger. Since the fateful tomato soup incident back in January, she’d seen him a few more times, though he no longer sat outside the pub on Princess Victoria Street.

  ‘Hi. I’d ask how you’re feeling, but that would probably be a silly question.’

  ‘Well, I’ve had better days.’ She managed a brief smile in return. ‘Actually, not so bad now.’

  A woman from the antiques shop came out with a glass of cold water, and Flo drank it down gratefully in one go.

  ‘Where do you live?’ said the man.

  ‘Caledonia Place.’

  ‘OK, can you stand? Let me help you home.’

  Flo took a few deep breaths. Once she was on her feet and fairly sure she wasn’t about to collapse again, they made their way carefully around the corner.

  ‘Thanks,’ she murmured as they walked. ‘Sorry I’m being slow. My head’s still a bit muzzy.’

  ‘You’ll probably feel rubbish for a while. Wiped out. Take it steady.’ He held her arm as she wavered. ‘I’m Jason, by the way.’

  ‘And I’m Flo. Haven’t seen you around lately.’

  ‘I’ve got a job.’ Jason announced it with pride. ‘Washing up in the new Italian restaurant down the road. Sorry, do I sound smug? That’s because I
am.’

  She smiled. ‘That’s brilliant. Well done.’

  By the time they reached the flat, Flo was perspiring and feeling light-headed again, and needed Jason’s help up the staircase.

  ‘This is really kind of you,’ she said as he guided her across the living room and over to the sofa. Legs wobbling, she collapsed on to it in the nick of time. Oh, the relief of sitting down.

  ‘No problem. Can I get you anything?’

  Her mouth was like cotton wool. ‘I’d love a cup of tea. Two sugars, please.’

  He was back from the kitchen thirty seconds later, holding the almost empty litre carton of milk from the fridge. ‘This has gone off, I’m afraid. It’s sour.’

  ‘God, sorry. Yes, I knew that.’ Life at the moment was full of too many things to remember; it was a constant battle to stay afloat. ‘I was on my way to the supermarket when I fainted.’

  ‘Was that the list that fell out of your handbag? There’s no way you’re up to shopping now,’ said Jason. ‘Would you like me to go to the supermarket for you?’

  She hesitated. ‘I don’t want to put you out.’

  ‘Honestly, not a problem. Happy to help. Here.’ He passed over her handbag and Flo gave him the list she’d compiled, then opened her purse. When she paused for a second, Jason said, ‘It’s OK, I promise not to run off with your money.’

  ‘Don’t even say that.’ Unable to remember what she’d written down, she handed him three twenty-pound notes. ‘There, that should be enough. Thank you so much.’

  ‘My pleasure.’ Was he secretly wondering why she was looking so awful? If he was, he didn’t ask. Glancing at the items scribbled on the shopping list, he said, ‘I’ll be back in half an hour. You stay where you are.’

  The weakness and wooziness had receded by the time the doorbell rang twenty-five minutes later. Flo buzzed him in and said, ‘Really, thanks so much for this,’ as he carried the bags past her into the kitchen.

  ‘Stop it. Do you have any idea how good it makes me feel, being in a position to help someone else?’ Jason was in his forties, thin and wiry, with well-muscled arms and a scar across his left temple. But his voice was gentle, his expression compassionate. ‘You helped me out. I’m just glad to have a chance to return the favour.’