by Emily Hudson
‘You boys!’ Kitty muttered, making her way to the car.
‘It’s not good is it!’
Sandy sighed, ‘I’m sorry mate, don’t make any plans for this afternoon, I’ll rush through these results and call you. I may have to admit her to run some further tests.’ I nodded, letting it sink in, and let him know how much I appreciated his help.
Kitty hadn’t felt like going to Bridge, said I’d cause too much of a distraction. It was a good job too; Sandy true to his word, had arranged everything. Less than a few hours later a call had come through from the hospital, they had a bed waiting. Kitty physically shook as she tried to pack the overnight bag that had been suggested. I’d jotted down the ward details and, a few internet searches later, I’d discovered we were heading to the acute oncology ward. I crumbled inside whilst the stoic Marcus remained in place on the outside.
Sandy was there to greet us when we arrived outside the ward, how he managed it, I don’t know but it was much appreciated. I gripped Kitty’s hand as she looked up at the signage. She never failed to surprise me; I thought I’d see fear, fragility but instead it was acceptance. Sandy left us to get settled into the private room. Looking up at me, ‘There’s no point getting maudlin. I’ve had a good innings, it is what it is, can’t change it. You and I will have to have a little chat about a few things.’
That chat was somewhat delayed as an army of staff descended upon us. Her vitals, more blood and dinner order taken, even I was exhausted by the flurry of action. Defences down, nothing could prepare me for the next visitor.
A rather portly gentleman introduced himself as Mr Shar, the kindly man sat down beside Kitty, explaining in the terms even a child could understand, about how alarmed he was at the level of white cells in her blood. He went on to suggest that this, more than likely, was a form of Leukaemia, but they would book her in for a bone marrow biopsy to confirm. I thought we should have asked some questions, but we hadn’t. We sat there, shocked. The consultant seemed to know we needed time; time to think, ironically the one thing we had a lot less of.
Looking somewhat smaller, lying in her hospital gown, I tried to distract her with the functions of the bed. With the strength I’d always known her have, she put on her “not to be messed with” voice. ‘Get a pen and paper my boy!’ I flashed my phone, only for her to raise her eyebrows in faux disapproval. ‘Now this is going to be harder on you than me, but it’s a necessity. You are all I’ve got, so I’m relying on you.’ Kitty knew how to manage me even as a young boy. Give me responsibility, high expectations and I would rise to it, I felt the same feeling now. Kitty had been alone a long time, never married; she had lost her only sibling when I was a child, but right now she had me and I’d be there for her, always. I listened intently, swallowing hard as she listed all her wishes. A burial as opposed to cremation, she had details of a plot already acquired back at her house.
When I looked at her surprised, ‘Another lifetime ago.’ was all she offered as an explanation! It must be a celebration, I want vibrant colours, any black, turf them out, I don’t want them admitted. Kitty went on to inform me that a copy of her Will was in the house but it was held with Lanvilles; as I tried to interject she hushed me. My savings are split between you and Livvy.’
Shit, Livvy my baby sister how was I going to tell her?
‘The house and its contents are yours, It’s already done, I know you don’t need it but I’d rather you make use of it, turn it into a home for the homeless, whatever, I can’t take it with me. My jewellery I’d like Livvy to have, all except one piece, you’ll find it in the safe.’
I coughed, choking back the emotion, ‘Isn’t this all a little premature?’
She drew breath, ‘Once it’s said I don’t have to say it again, I can move on and enjoy what’s left. Finally, when the time does come, don’t mourn me, think of me and smile. Working for your family was the best thing that ever happened to me. OK?’ she said dusting her hands off, task complete. ‘Right, onto more serious issues, how does a patient get a cuppa around here?’ I kissed her on her forehead.
‘I’ll find out.’ Grateful for the moment, I needed to collect myself.
Tea was on tap, all she had to do was call. Visiting hours were unlimited; whilst I was impressed with the level of care, it only compounded the sinking feeling inside; the phrase, making you more comfortable, kept ringing in my ears, things must be bad. As the evening drew in she insisted I leave, having sorted out her TV viewing for the night and contacted a couple of her friends. I needed my rest as did she. The biopsy was scheduled for tomorrow and then we’d know exactly what we were dealing with.
As soon as I got home I poured myself a Scotch, I knew I couldn’t put off the inevitable, Livvy needed to know. The only problem being that I’d rather do this face to face. My sister was just as fond of Kitty as I, but now called Paris home. One gruelling conversation later and as I suspected Livvy completely broke down. Devastated she told me she’d get on the first available flight back to London, I expected nothing less from my little sister. Despite, or because of, my parents it had always been the three of us against the world and now was no different. Thinking about my parents I poured another couple of fingers, biting the bullet I phoned and my mother answered. Relaying the news to them only served to further anger me, particularly as she said, ‘Well it will come to us all eventually.’ This was a woman who raised her children, that gave service to the same family for nearly 20 years of her life. I wanted to scream, instead I curtly said my goodbyes.
Sinking further into my favourite chair, my thoughts wondered back to the wedding and how quickly everything can change. There I was in the company of a beautiful woman blissfully ignorant fate had other plans; now I’m researching types of leukaemia, survival rates, treatment plans and the thing I’m angry and frustrated about the most is there is not a damn thing I can do about it. All the money in the world can’t change the outcome. Death is truly a great equaliser. Emptying my glass with a final swig, I headed back to the decanter, cynically thinking my parents attitude is perhaps easier to accept.
Livvy and I had continued to exchange messages well into the night. I planned to pick her up from Gatwick shortly after nine and drove the straightest route along the M23, realising I couldn’t wait to see her. Livvy was currently on a gap year, she gained a first in her business degree and was taking a year out before embarking upon her MBA. Absorbing herself in French culture, the arts and I dread to think what else, as did our parents; but having applied the ‘Livvy’ charm and promised she would return to her studies, they reluctantly agreed. I think Livvy’s life was less sheltered than we all assumed; she had needed to escape the confines of what was expected from our parents. Standing waiting for her to come through arrivals I envied her situation. It had been programmed into me from a young age, what was expected. It was my job to take on the legal empire and whilst I’d excelled at every challenge put in front of me, was it really what I wanted? Was I fulfilled? My thoughts were shattered as I caught a glimpse of my baby sister gliding through the doors. I was caught off guard as this radiant beauty walked towards me. We had both been blessed with our father’s height, at six foot five inches I towered over most but I’d never really noticed Livvy’s stature until this very moment as she was striding towards me in what had to be six inch heels, taking all five foot eight of her to virtually eye level with me. I shook my head, at the vision before me. Lifting her up and swinging her around, as I had done many a time, now seemed inappropriate. ‘Where is my sister and what have you done with her?’ I joked.
‘You like the new me.’ She said twirling round like she did not that long ago in one of her ballet outfits.
Flinging my arms around her, ‘You got all grown up.’ Pulling her back to look again. ‘You look amazing.’ With that she giggled, taking her carry-on, I guided her out to the car.
Drawing her in closer with my other arm around her shoulder I stopped, ‘What is it?’ she asked as people tutted, annoyed as
they had to step around us.
‘Just realised how much I miss you sis.’
Her eyes welled up, tucking her head into the crook of my neck, ‘Missed you too.’
During the journey back into the city I filled Livvy in on the details. I’d left out last night’s conversation with our parents. Livvy visibly paled as she listened. From the research, I had carried out so far, things didn’t look good. Kitty’s age and prior health issues meant the prognosis wasn’t great. For Livvy and I, it hit like a ton of bricks, we’d never been touched by death before. Our grandparents passed away before either of us was born; suddenly we were both aware of our own mortality.
The confidence that Livvy had bounded through arrivals with had all but disappeared as we walked through the hospital. She sought out my hand; clutching it back, I gave her a little squeeze, we needed to remain strong for Kitty’s sake. Stopping by the kitchen to make a cup of tea for her; our plan was that I would go in first and then Livvy would come in pretending to serve tea.
It worked perfectly, Kitty had settled back to her Sudoko having told me she was nearly finished and then I would have her undivided attention. Livvy strolled in ‘Tea, coffee, biscuits?’ Kitty didn’t even look up, engrossed in her number crunching. ‘Tea please.’ As Livvy placed it in front of her Kitty looked up to thank her and nearly sent the scolding hot tea flying. ‘Oh, my baby girl.’ She said flinging her arms around her. ‘Now let me get a good look at you.’ Livvy took the seat beside her. ‘Paris has been good for you, I knew it would be.’
‘Paris has been amazing for me.’ Livvy, had always been able to talk the hind-leg off a donkey, now was no different as she fully debriefed us on her life in Paris, working for one of the biggest auction houses in the world. She told us everything, her favourite coffee shop, her flat in the Marais, a stone’s throw from Notre Dame. She waxed lyrical about her friend Camille, the one responsible for my baby sister’s new found style. ‘Seriously I’d walk into the office and people barely noticed me. I was just the frumpy English girl, hiding myself away in my clothes as everyone else walked about looking glamourous. A couple of weeks later I reached breaking point. I’d met Camille when I first moved in, she’d caught me moping about after a particularly hard day at work. A glass of wine later, three hours at a salon, a weekend of shopping, tee-dah!’ Getting up she did her swirl.
‘Did it work?’ Kitty asked.
‘Did it work? I’ve already been promoted and the best part is they have offered me a permanent position, here in London.’ We both rushed to congratulate her but I had said it with reservation. Livvy picked up on it instantly, ‘You can help me break it to father. I won’t be taking my place on the MBA.’ My eyes narrowed, ‘His dream, not mine.’ She flippantly added.
‘Livvy, I will back you to the hilt but it might be best to turn the charm on yourself.’ At this point we realised Kitty had turned into a silent bystander. She was watching us both individually as if it were the Mens final at Wimbledon.
‘Look at you two worrying yourselves over a little thing like this. When will you realise he is just a man, tell it to him straight, that’s what he appreciates. You are both incredibly successful but you should be living your own lives, not someone else’s.’ ‘Even if that someone is your father?’ Livvy looked up mischievously, ‘On second thoughts Kitty, can you do it?’
‘Gladly my dear, now help me finish this.’ Pointing to her unfinished Sudoko Grid.
It wasn’t long before a stream of doctors and nurses came in to take the biopsy. Kitty instructed us to leave because we hadn’t yet heard her swear and she’d prefer to keep it that way. When we returned, we were relieved to hear her pain was no more than a dull ache, ‘Nothing to worry about.’ she bravely said. I hoped it was the truth, but I feared she was just sheltering us from the facts as she always had.
Sadly she couldn’t shelter us from the results that Mr Shar returned with later that afternoon. Acute Myeloid Leukaemia, ‘AML’ as the name suggests it progresses quickly.
‘What’s the treatment plan,’ I instantly pipe up. Mr Shar sympathetically turns to me before turning back to Kitty.
‘At this stage, we will be offering palliative care, which can be managed through outpatients. I’ll make an appointment for you to return in the next few days and we can discuss the treatment further then.’ Kitty just nodded; he took her hand gently and asked if she had any questions for him.
Drawing breath she smiled at him, ‘I bet you don’t like this part of your job, do you?’ He shook his head. ‘Well you’re very good at it, so don’t stop. Now, how long are we talking?’ Amazing us with her grace and dignity whilst asking the question I feared most of all. ‘With management, antibiotics and chemo you could have months.’ Months I was screaming inside. ‘Well that gives me time to sort things out.’ She had just been handed a death sentence and here she was worried about sorting things out. Looking up at Livvy and I, she had that mischievous look, ‘So when can they get me out of here?’ Wisely the consultant told her, ‘Let the information sink in, have a spot of lunch, by then your meds will be ready.’
‘And then I can escape?’ she said.
‘Yes, you can.’ He smiled.
Knowing it’s coming never makes it easier. As Kitty tucked into her chicken and mushroom risotto a couple of her bridge buddies popped their heads in, so Livvy and I took the opportunity to grab some lunch too. We remained composed until we made it to the end of the corridor before both of us broke down and I was holding a quivering Livvy in my arms.
Lunch was surprisingly productive, the benefit of having emotionless parents was that after our outburst, we had both developed a proactive and logical approach to problems. Our mission to make Kitty’s life easier our next problem, how to convince Kitty to accept the help of a carer? A carer would be able to tend to her daily needs, reassure us that Kitty was eating well, even take her to bridge, although Zumba would probably have to be knocked on the head and as the inevitable approached, tend to her every need. There would be one sticking point though…
‘No. No. No!’ The fearfully independent Kitty was more than a little opposed to the idea; vehemently against it, would be more accurate. Settling her back at home, we attempted to suggest the idea of a carer. Shooting us down immediately, she told us that she was fine right now, as this thing progresses we can consider hospices and such like but right now, ‘I need to be independent.’ As I tried to explain that a carer would enable her to stay independent she raised her hand. ‘Stop, you have your own life. Marcus, stop worrying about me and focus on getting that girl back in your life, the one that puts a smile on your face.’
Livvy who was shuffling into the kitchen to make tea, stopped, her eyes inquisitively shot to me in an instant, ‘I’ll tell you later.’
Just the mention of Lucy and I remembered her long blonde hair draped on my chest as we breathlessly regained our composure in each other’s arms. Saturday night felt a very long time ago. I wondered what she was doing? Had she thought of me? Had she moved on? I for one hadn’t but I didn’t have her number or address and I wasn’t about to interrupt Ethan’s honeymoon…but hang on a minute where was it she worked…Spectrum Events. A quick phone call to my clerk and it was all arranged. ‘Happy?’ I said turning back to a bemused Kitty who had taken everything in. ‘Is that enough wooing you think?’
She giggled. ‘It’s a start my boy, it’s a start. Consider me happy when you’re married and have a family of your own.’ I frowned, it was the one thing she wouldn’t see, she knew it too. ‘Now as much as I love you both, I need some peace.’
Chapter Five
‘Roll on the weekend hey?’ Marshall said as I walked through my office building. ‘It’s as if you read my mind.’ I replied, my usual exchange with our friendly concierge as I walked to the lift. Monday had been gruelling: I’d finally completed the bid for the Campbell account, only for Carole to email me with completely unnecessary amendments just as I was about to leave. I finally called it a
day just before nine. Too exhausted to even consider food I sunk into the opulence of Alicia and Ethan’s spare room.
Today had disaster written all over it. For starters, I’d already been working for three hours; an early start had been an understatement. At six am this morning, I could be found directing an installation of an exhibition stand for a trade fair, only to unfurl a promotional banner to discover I’d been given the wrong one by the printers. Half a trip around London later and a few choice words, disaster averted. Returning to my office however would be my biggest regret of the day.
The minute I stepped into the office I could see everything was in chaos; Jennifer, a much put upon junior, had finally taken enough. The poor girl must have ultimately mustered up the courage to say no, only to have the full wrath of Carole unleashed on her in the middle of the office. In tears, Jennifer picked up her bag and swept past me. ‘Incompetence is replaceable!’ Carole bellowed, before summoning me into her office to help redistribute Jennifer’s workload to the team. I dream of the day I could set up and run my own company, take a hard worker like Jennifer, value her contributions and empower her to make a success of her talents. But sadly, I was at the beck and call of the ‘she devil’ until I could afford to make the leap. Talking of which, Carole’s penetrating voice brought me back to reality. ‘So, transfer your name to the sleeper to Edinburgh for tonight.’ I nodded not really taking in the implication. ‘It’s three o’clock now, pick up the brief and tender on Jennifer’s desk and make yourself familiar with it and pray for no delays, the meeting is at ten. What the hell had I just agreed to? I pulled the file from Jennifer’s desk, a pitch to a software startup for their next big launch. No wonder the poor girl walked, she shouldn’t have been tackling this alone, not yet.