I had Peanut Butter Extreme, and all the sugar and protein made me feel light-headed. We sat in one of the booths, and I was sitting next to Emma, and Alex was sitting opposite us, and halfway through my meal (I say meal, but it wasn’t really, it was basically a whole week’s worth of calories in one bowl of ice cream), I felt Emma’s leg against mine, but instead of shifting and repositioning myself, I just stayed, and I even pressed against hers.
What is wrong with me? This is not helping me. Maybe I’m a masochist.
And the thing is, I don’t even think Emma noticed it, because she didn’t say anything or look at me in any sort of way that would suggest it could have been deliberate, and then I reminded myself of her pyramid of priorities, and I was like: Of course it doesn’t mean anything.
Luckily we had to be at the thrift shop at half past six, so I didn’t really have time to think about it too much, except I was thinking about it too much. Like a computer running background checks while letting you write an essay.
The rest of the evening ended up being quite hilarious because of the old people.
Pat looked like the queen was coming. She’d put on this most bizarre two-piece flowy skirt and blouse combo, and when the charity guy shook her hand, she curtsied.
We had to take the team picture, like, three million times, because Bill kept telling jokes, making us all laugh.
Melanie was just shaking her head, going: “Goodness, Bill, you’re such a child.”
At one point Emma pulled me further into the frame by my wrist, and I literally fell into her, and then she flung her arm around my shoulder, and I felt awkward in my own body.
Emma and I stayed until the end, and when Kate was locking up, we were standing on the sidewalk, and I looked at her, and she smiled, and all I could think was: You’re everything.
Saturday, June 9 #Speechless
This morning Kate knocked on my door at seven.
Me: Mum’s dead.
Kate (sitting down on my bed, hand reaching for my leg): No, pet. Your mum is fine. But Melanie had a stroke.
Me: What?
Kate: Melanie had a stroke. She’s at the hospital, but it doesn’t look like she’s going to recover.
Me: What?
Kate (rubbing my leg): Pat just called me to say that she’s at the hospital with them.
Me: Okay.
Kate: She says it’s not looking good for Melanie.
Me: What do you mean?
Kate: She probably won’t survive.
Me: But she was okay yesterday.
Kate: I know, pet, but a stroke can occur suddenly, and very unexpectedly. It’s important to get to the hospital quickly to save as much of the brain as possible. Bill didn’t realize something was wrong until he found her in bed early this morning, and she wasn’t able to get up.
Me: And now?
Kate: I’m going to go to the shop and put a sign up to say we’ll be shut today, and then I’m going to go over to the hospital. Can you text Emma to say not to come?
Me: Of course.
Kate: Do you want to come to the hospital?
Me: I don’t think I like hospitals.
Kate: I understand, hospitals are shit. Do you want me to text you with news?
Me (nodding):…
I sat in bed and waited for the front door to shut, and then, instead of texting Emma, I called her.
Emma (answering straightaway): Hi, Phoebe.
Me: Melanie had a stroke.
Emma: What?
Me: I know.
Emma: Oh my God.
Me: She’s at Kingston Hospital. Kate’s gone over, and Pat’s there, too. Kate said they don’t think she’ll live.
Emma: Oh my God.
Me: I know.
Emma: Are you going?
Me: I don’t like hospitals.
Emma: I don’t think anybody likes hospitals.
Me: We could get the bus.
When we met at the bus stop, Emma hugged me, and it wasn’t even awkward. Weird what bad news can do to people, I thought, and on the bus we talked about Bill and Melanie and how cool they are.
I texted Kate to say we were on our way, and she met us at the entrance.
When I was little, I had to go to the ER once, because I fell backwards off a rocking chair, bashed my head open, and needed stitches. I oddly can’t remember if it was Mum or Kate who took me at the time, but I remember being terrified because the lights were too bright, and everything was the opposite of comforting.
In the elevator, I saw that Emma was shaking like she was cold, and Kate went over and hugged her and rubbed her arms real fast, like to warm her up.
Kate: Is this where Bradley—
Emma: No.
Kate (hugging her again): You okay, pet?
Emma: Yes, sure. Thank you.
Kate: Because you don’t have to be here.
Emma: I want to be here.
Kate: All right.
Pat was sitting in the hallway outside Melanie’s room, and when she saw us, she was like: “How good of you both to come. It’s important to say goodbye.”
I was like: “I’m here to say hello,” but she just smiled that hideous smile she smiles when she wants you to know that she knows everything and you know nothing.
Emma asked straightaway if she could go into the room, and Pat went inside to ask Bill, and then two seconds later, she came back out and said it was okay.
Emma (to me): Do you want to come?
Me (shaking head):…
Emma: Okay. I’ll tell them you’re here.
I sat down opposite Pat, and Kate sat down next to me.
Kate: You’ve never seen anyone at this point, Phoebe, have you?
Me: At this point?
Kate: When they’re dying.
Me: She’s not dead.
Kate (taking my hand and looking straight at me): No. But she’s dying. We’re not sure how much damage happened to her brain, but she’s not conscious, and her kidneys are failing. If Bill decides to not put her on life support when the time comes, she will probably die later today, or maybe tomorrow.
Me: How do you know that? You don’t know that.
Kate (taking a deep breath in, and a long breath out): I’m sorry, Phoebe. But I know that.
Me: But she could recover.
Kate: The brain is a very complex organ. When so much of it dies, it is highly unlikely for a person to come back from it. Not all the way, not really.
I just sat there for, like, a thousand minutes, and then the door opened, and Emma came out, and I thought that I should really pull myself together, because if anyone had reason to feel a bit sick about it all, it was her. Well, and Pat. And Kate, I guess.
Kate: Are you okay, Emma?
Emma (nodding): She’s not in any pain.
Kate: No, she isn’t.
Me: How can you know that? Just because she isn’t saying anything doesn’t mean she isn’t in pain. She could be screaming on the inside.
Pat’s eyes literally rolled out of her head, and I swear she would have said something if Kate hadn’t beaten her to it.
Kate: No, Phoebe, we know. Okay? I can tell you right now that Melanie is currently not in pain. And if you insist on the stone-cold truth, I will give you that, too.
Me: Please.
Kate: This isn’t about Melanie. She’s not really here anymore. She probably doesn’t know Bill or Pat, or Emma, or anyone anymore. This is about us now. It’s about whether we want to be with her body as it stops functioning. Do you understand? The Melanie we knew is already gone.
At the end of the speech, Pat was sobbing, and Emma was crying, but she wasn’t making any noise. It was as if tears were just flowing out of her eyes while she got on with life.
I mumbled something about not wanting to be there, got up, and left.
I walked out of the sterile hospital into the hot June afternoon, and I stood in the car park for a minute, and I swear I couldn’t remember how I even got there.
; I sent Kate a text to say that I was taking the bus home, and when I got there, all I could think about was that I probably should study for next week’s science extravaganza, but I didn’t.
I didn’t even make it upstairs.
I just played with the designer and half-designer kittens in the front room, and when they got bored and wanted their mums, I just lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling.
James came in around midday, and he was like: “Hey, Phoebe, what’s up? Where’s Kate? She’s not answering her phone.”
Me: Melanie’s in the hospital, and she’s dying, but I left.
James: I’m sorry, what?
Me: Melanie had a stroke, and everyone’s at the hospital, but Kate said that she’s basically dead already, so I left because what’s the point?
James (looking at me like I hadn’t been speaking in English): That was a lot of information about a lot of things in just one sentence.
Me: Keep up.
James: I’m going to try calling Kate again.
I held up my phone for him to use, because I knew she’d pick up, and James disappeared upstairs. Ten minutes later, he came back down, and he was like: “I’m going to get an Uber and go over to the hospital. Do you want to come?”
Me: No.
James: Bill signed a form to say Melanie shouldn’t be resuscitated. So … well, you know what that means.
Me:…
James:…
Me: Imagine having to do that.
James: I can’t actually.
Me: Imagine you’d have to sign one for Kate.
James: I couldn’t. But if it were the other way around, I wish she would. It’s fucked up, isn’t it?
Me: Totally fucked up. And Emma’s just there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
James (thinking, then): I suppose it is. Dying is part of life, isn’t it?
Me: It scares me.
James: Me too.
Me: Do you know about her brother?
James (nodding): Yes, she told me I remind her of him. We both used to row at school.
Me (feeling like a massive idiot):…
James: You sure you don’t want to come?
Me (getting off the floor finally, after, like, three hours): I’m going to get everyone water and hoodies first. In case she doesn’t … you know … die like … soon.
James: I’ll wait for you out front.
When we got to the hospital, they’d moved Melanie to another room close to an operating room, because apparently she’s an organ donor, and the transplant team were basically waiting for her to stop breathing and clinically die, so they could take all the good bits ASAP and save other sick people.
It was all so grim and so ridiculous.
James enveloped Kate, and I sat down next to Emma.
Emma: You okay?
Me: Not really.
Emma (nodding):…
Me: You?
Emma: Not really.
Me:…
We sat for ages, not talking. Pat went into the room to be with Bill, and the rest of us just sat in the uncomfortable chairs.
Kate and James got everyone sandwiches from the café at one point, but no one was hungry.
Emma ate half of hers and passed me the other half, and I only ate it because it was there.
Kate came over and kind of knelt in front of Emma and was like: “Are you sure you’re happy to be here? Nobody would think less of you if you went home.”
Emma was like: “I’m fine. I want to be here, and my parents say it’s okay,” and then Kate was like: “All right, but if you change your mind, you let me know, okay? James or I can always take you home.”
Emma was like: “Thank you.”
Nurses went in every half hour or so to check on Melanie, even though they weren’t actually checking on her, but on the condition of her organs.
Emma and I went for a walk at one point, because I was freezing and getting twitchy just sitting there.
We walked all the way to the entrance to Richmond Park without saying a word, and then we turned around and walked back.
Emma: Are you thinking about Melanie?
Me: No.
Emma: What are you thinking about?
Me: About Bradley.
Emma: Me too.
Me: Was he in hospital when he died?
Emma (nodding):…
Me:…
Emma: I was there.
Me:…
Emma:…
Me: How did you know what to do? I mean when he was, you know, dying?
Emma (shrugging): I didn’t. Not really. I just kept stroking his arm. And I told him that I loved him.
Me:…
Emma: But in a really silly way, you know, like: I love you more than I love a Domino’s Cheese Feast. I love you more than I love Christmas. I love you more than, I don’t know, life.
Me: I hate that you had to do that.
Emma: I hate that he’s dead.
Me:…
Emma: My mum lost it the day we knew he was going to die. She wanted new drugs, new consultants, a new hospital. She just couldn’t accept it. I think I kept so calm because the whole time I was thinking what I would want if it were me instead of him. You know, you’d want someone there for your parents.
Me: I suppose so.
Emma: I know Melanie would want more than anything for someone to be with Bill right now so he doesn’t have to feel like he has to make really impossible decisions alone.
Me: Yes.
Emma: The worst thing is the emptiness after. It feels like someone has physically ripped your heart out, and you can’t breathe, and you can’t think, and all you know is that you’re lying on the floor, drooling.
Me:…
Emma: I still have dreams about him, you know. He’s alive, but because I know he’s going to die, I don’t want to see him, because I’m like: No, I watched you die already, I’m not doing it again. And sometimes when I wake up, I’m glad that it’s already over.
I didn’t know what to say to that, and so I took Emma’s hand and kissed the back of it, the way Kate sometimes does it to me.
Emma was like: “Stop being weird.” But I was like: “Fuck off, I’m not being weird, I’ve been wanting to kiss your hand for ages.”
She laughed, but that wasn’t even a lie.
Me: Do I have to go in and see Melanie?
Emma: No, of course not. It’s like Kate said, it’s about you now.
Me: I really don’t want to see her like that.
Emma: And that’s okay.
Me: Are you sure? Because I don’t want people thinking I’m a horrible person.
Emma: I don’t think anyone would think that.
Me: Pat would.
Emma: She already thinks you’re a horrible person.
Me:…
Emma (giggling then): Love you.
Me: Fuck off.
When we got back to the hospital, nothing had changed.
Bill came out briefly, and I gave him a hug, and then we just kept waiting.
At eight they moved Melanie again, because she hadn’t died in time for her organs to still be of any use to anyone. Apparently her entire body had been underoxygenated for too long. So she went upstairs into a nicer room without much machinery.
I didn’t look when they wheeled her past me.
James took Emma and me home at nine, even though we don’t have school tomorrow.
I’m waiting to hear now.
I can’t sleep.
I don’t want to sleep.
To think that a person is in the process of leaving this life is so complicated.
I think I love Emma.
Sunday, June 10 #Death
4:24 A.M.
Melanie died.
Kate just rang. She’s going to help with things at the hospital, and then she and Pat are taking Bill home.
I still can’t believe any of it.
Melanie was fine.
Her picture is going to be in the Wim
bledon Gazette tomorrow.
9:15 P.M.
Kate finally came home at nine this morning and went straight to bed.
James visited for a few hours, but went to work at four, so I made dinner and woke Kate at six.
Kate said it’s always very difficult when old people have been together for such a long time and one of them dies, because they are entirely codependent. She said she hopes that Bill doesn’t die of grief.
Melanie would be so disappointed if that happened. Or maybe she’d be flattered?
Monday, June 11 #TheDead
I had to take Biology 2 this morning and Geography 3 this afternoon. After yesterday I honestly don’t know how I did it.
I told Polly about Melanie after lunch, and she was just like: “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe you’re even here.” And then when we walked to Geography 3, she held my hand, not Tristan’s.
Polly is brilliant.
Melanie’s funeral is on Friday.
How strange to think that her body is lying somewhere all dead and cold until then.
I wonder how many more dead people are currently lying around waiting to be buried or cremated.
I’ve never been to a funeral, and I actually don’t know if I want to go. It’s going to be all sad and horrible, and I think the coffin with Melanie in it will be in the church/room.
PS: Our picture in the Wimbledon Gazette looks hilarious.
Next week Melanie’s obituary will be in it.
PPS: I just tried Googling “How many dead, unburied people are currently on Earth?” but Google doesn’t know, which is confusing, because Google knows everything.
I suppose I could always try to work it out by looking at how many people died last year, then dividing that number by the number of days of the year, and then working out an approximate number, but I’m too tired.
11:43 P.M.
There are approximately 151,506.85 dead, unburied, and uncremated people on planet Earth right now. And Melanie is one of them.
Good night.
Tuesday, June 12 #Math3
I had anxiety dreams all night about showing up for Mathematics 3 without a calculator despite having plastered sticky notes all over the house to remind me to take it.
Love Is for Losers Page 19