A Proper Family Christmas (29 page)

Nothing was going to prevent Izzy from enjoying her birthday weekend in London to the full. The dialysis machine may have had to go with her, but she was determined that while she wasn’t actually hooked up to it, she would pretend that the whole past four months had never happened and she was as happy and healthy as she had been when she turned sixteen twelve months earlier. Fingers crossed, in another twelve months she would be happy and healthy again.

Izzy could tell that Sophie was nervous about meeting Izzy’s old school friends. Sophie had admitted as much while they were walking around Selfridges, trying and failing to find something new to wear.

Sophie had brought a huge suitcase with her to London, which basically contained every single thing she owned. She had packed for all eventualities. She had her jeans. She had her trackie bottoms. She even had the dress she’d worn to her mum and dad’s wedding. None of it was quite right and Izzy could tell that Sophie had set all her hopes on finding something to buy with the money Chelsea had given her at lunch. When they came out of Selfridges empty-handed, Izzy felt slightly guilty. She knew that they hadn’t been able to shop anywhere near as long as Sophie would have liked to because she, Izzy, got exhausted so quickly these days. They didn’t even get to the massive Topshop at Oxford Circus. Sophie’s insistence that having something special to wear didn’t matter made Izzy feel even worse. To a point. What Sophie didn’t know was that Izzy had a fallback plan.

When they got to Richard’s flat, Izzy took Sophie into the guest bedroom and pulled something out of her own bag.

‘I think you should try this. I brought it along with you in mind.’

It was the All Saints dress that had caught Sophie’s eye when she saw it hanging on the back of the wardrobe door in Izzy’s room way back in May. The dress she could never have afforded for herself.

‘It’s clean,’ said Izzy. ‘I’ve never worn it.’

‘Then don’t you want to wear it first?’ Sophie asked.

‘No. I think you should wear it. I know it’s going to suit you better than me anyway.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes. I don’t know why I bought it. Black doesn’t suit me but on you it looks great.’

‘If you’re sure …’

‘Sophie,’ said Izzy. ‘Don’t be so wet. I told you I brought it here especially for you. Just try the dress on, will you? If you don’t like it, you can go in your jeans.’

Sophie went into the bathroom and changed out of her tatty clothes and into the dress. When she came back out to see what she thought, Izzy was delighted. She had been right that the dress would be perfect for her cousin. It was transforming. Sophie definitely had no need to worry whether she could hold her own against Jessica now. She grinned from ear to ear. Izzy was surprised at how much Sophie’s happiness improved her own mood. She had started to feel a little jaded after lunch and Selfridges but Sophie’s excitement lifted her up again. And she was so glad she could give Sophie that dress that she almost forgot the reason she would never wear it wasn’t the colour at all. It was because dialysis seemed to leave her permanently bloated. She’d put on six pounds since she started. That was another thing Izzy wished she’d known before she took those stupid pills.

With their outfits finally sorted, there was just time for the girls to do their hair and make-up before they set off to the O
₂
. The rest of Izzy’s friends would meet them there.

Soon Jessica, Chloe and Gina were talking to Sophie as though they’d known her for ever. Sophie got bonus points when she explained that her Auntie Chelsea – now Izzy’s aunt too – worked on
Society
magazine and met celebs all the time. She held everyone rapt with the story of how Chelsea had met Eugenia Lapkiss, the actress of the moment, who turned out to be so thick that she quoted Homer Simpson and attributed what he said to Socrates.

The band were great. They were far better live than Izzy had expected. And the girls had such a spectacular view. They leaned over the balcony at the front of the box and screamed along.

From time to time, Izzy retreated back into the hospitality room that was attached to the box to sit on one of the sofas and regain some energy, but for once she didn’t feel as though she would rather be in bed. She felt almost herself again.

They stayed until the band had played their encores and then, the best part of all, they got to go backstage. Izzy was aware that her status, as someone waiting for a kidney transplant, had almost certainly earned them this privilege but – fuck it – if anything good could come out of what she was going through then she was going to make the most of it. The girls took a thousand pictures of their idols from up close.

‘And I will never wash my hand again,’ said Jessica, after the lead singer signed the back of her hand with a biro.

Jessica, Chloe and Gina went back home to the Midlands that night but Sophie and the Buchanans only had to go as far as Fulham.

Izzy and Sophie shared the guest bedroom. Annabel had suggested that perhaps Sophie might prefer to sleep on the sofa bed in the living room, since Izzy was going to have to dialyse overnight and the noise of the machine could keep Sophie awake. But Sophie and Izzy did not want to be parted.

‘And the noise won’t bother me,’ said Sophie. ‘I can hear my dad snoring through the wall at home. If you can sleep through that, you can sleep through anything.’

‘If you’re sure,’ said Annabel.

‘Mum,’ said Izzy. ‘She’s said she’s OK with it.’

There were two single beds in the spare room. The dialysis machine was set up between them. Sophie politely busied herself with a pile of old copies of
Elle
while Annabel donned a mask and helped Izzy sterilise the equipment and set up the bags of dialysis fluid Izzy would use that night. Sophie looked at the wall while Izzy plugged a tube into the catheter that protruded from her stomach. The machine was started.

‘You can look at me again now,’ said Izzy, who had, of course, noticed Sophie’s painful efforts to give her some privacy.

‘Good night, girls,’ said Annabel.

She kissed both Izzy and Sophie on the foreheads then left them alone at last.

Annabel need not have worried about the noise the dialysis machine made. It was far quieter than Sophie had expected. Just a faint humming, like the sound of distant traffic.

All the same, Sophie and Izzy did not fall asleep right away. They were still way too wired from their night at the O
₂
.

‘This has been my best birthday ever,’ said Izzy. ‘I don’t think I could have imagined anything better.’

‘Me either,’ said Sophie. ‘I am going to remember this day for the rest of my life. I can’t believe I got to meet The Twilight. Skyler will be sick when she finds out. And Harrison.’

‘Swipe left,’ Izzy reminded her. ‘You don’t even need to care about what those two think. You know,’ she continued, ‘the concert was brilliant, but the best part of all was having you here with me. We’re properly friends now, aren’t we? You’ve forgiven me for being a bitch when we first met?’

‘If you’ve forgiven me for getting hard in return.’

‘Yeah. You were scary.’

‘Got to be scary when you come from the rough part of town like I do,’ Sophie opined.

‘Yeah. It’s
so
rough where you are,’ Izzy mocked. ‘Even the toddlers carry knuckledusters.’

‘Not much to look forward to except fighting, having four babies and getting fat.’

‘Oh bullshit.’

‘Seriously, though, my town is like some sinkhole that sucks you in. I don’t know anyone who’s escaped it.’

‘What do you mean? Your Auntie Chelsea did.’

‘She’s an exception.’

‘You could be an exception too.’

‘Yeah,’ said Sophie. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Why not? You should go to university, Sophie. You don’t have to leave school and go straight into a job. Think about it.’

‘I’ve thought about it already. I can’t afford the tuition fees.’

‘You don’t have to be able to. You can get a loan and you don’t have to start paying it back until you’re earning seventeen grand.’

‘How am ever I going to earn seventeen grand?’

‘That’s a starting salary!’ said Izzy.

‘For the kind of jobs people like you get, perhaps.’

‘People like me?’

‘Posh people.’

‘I’m not posh.’

‘You’ve got fish knives.’

‘Exactly. Really posh people would never have fish knives.’

‘Now I’m just confused,’ Sophie said.

‘But what do you mean “people like me”? Come on. Fill me in. What makes me any different from you?’

‘A private education, of course. And knowing all the right things to say. And which fork to use at the dinner table.’

‘I forgot your family eats with their fingers,’ Izzy joked. ‘Look, don’t be so pessimistic about your chances, Soph. Think about what you want to be and go for it. Don’t limit yourself because, trust me, plenty of other people will try to do that. Or you could make one stupid mistake, like I did, and see all your options disappear in a heartbeat. Right now, you could be anywhere, doing anything. So, while you’ve got the advantage, take it, for fuck’s sake.’

Sophie opened her mouth to say something.

‘And don’t give me that stuff about not being clever enough. There’s no one in my class at school who
isn’t
planning on going to uni and I know for a fact that hardly any of them are more intelligent than you are. It’s just a different kind of school. Where I go, they assume you’ll make it.’

‘Where I go, making it is getting a job in a call centre.’

‘You’re better than that. Raise your expectations.’

‘Easy for you to say.’

‘Easy for you to
do
. Sophie, seriously. What right do you have not to make the most of your talents and every advantage you’ve got when there are people like me who can’t get out there because we have to spend every night hooked to a dialysis machine. It makes me so angry when you talk yourself down.’

‘I didn’t grow up like you did. I didn’t get your education. I didn’t even know that half the jobs you talk about, and the places you’ve been to, existed.’

‘Well, you do now. And you know which fork to use,’ Izzy added.

‘Now I feel like you’re patronising me.’

‘I don’t mean to.’

‘You’re only a year older than me.’

‘And I’ve seen my life flash before my eyes,’ Izzy reminded her. ‘I want the best for you, Sophie, because I think you’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.’

‘Really?’ said Sophie. ‘I feel the same about you.’

‘Then I hope you’ll let me keep on nagging you. Dream big. Like I’m still trying to.’

Izzy was glad that the lights were out so Sophie couldn’t see her cry.

The following evening, having dropped Richard and Izzy off at the Great House on the way, Annabel drove Sophie back home to Coventry. When she got there, she went up to the front door, expecting, if she was honest, to be invited in. After all, she had spent the entire weekend looking after Ronnie’s daughter. A cup of tea wouldn’t be too much to ask in return, would it? Except that Annabel didn’t want a cup of tea. She wanted a firmer promise of something much more important.

‘Did you have a good time?’ Ronnie asked her daughter.

‘The best,’ Sophie confirmed.

Jack, who had just been put to bed, had heard his sister’s return and was now standing at the top of the stairs.

‘We got you a present, Jack!’ Sophie went on inside. Jack careened down the stairs to meet her. She and Izzy had bought Jack a Doctor Who baseball cap from a stall on Oxford Street. It had a cheesy glow-in-the-dark Tardis decal on the front. He would love it.

‘Thank you for taking Sophie along,’ said Ronnie.

‘Oh, it was our pleasure,’ said Annabel. ‘Sophie is such a lovely girl and she really brings out the best in Izzy. It’s almost as though they’re sisters.’

Ronnie agreed. ‘Sophie always wanted a sister. When she came to see Jack in the hospital the day he was born, she asked if we could swap him for the little girl in the next cot. I sometimes wish I had!’

The real sisters laughed at the thought. They both knew Ronnie adored her son and Annabel couldn’t help but be charmed by him too.

‘He’s such a poppet,’ Annabel said. ‘Seeing him always brightens up my day.’ But still Ronnie wasn’t inviting Annabel in. She kept her standing on the doorstep until, at last, Annabel admitted to herself that she wasn’t going to get a cup of tea, or a chance to discuss what she
really
wanted to talk about. Not that night.

‘Well, I suppose I’d better get back home,’ she said. ‘It’s been a busy couple of days. But perhaps you and I should go out together on our own one evening soon. So that we can have a proper talk about …’

Annabel let Ronnie complete the sentence in her head.

‘Sure,’ said Ronnie. ‘That’d be nice.’

‘I’ll text you with some dates,’ said Annabel.

She stepped forward to give Ronnie a hug. Ronnie hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace somewhat perfunctorily. Annabel squeezed tighter to see if perhaps she could squash some sign of affection from her. She couldn’t. She gave up.

‘See you soon,’ said Annabel. Walking back to the car, she tried to push away the uncomfortable notion that something wasn’t quite right.

What Annabel didn’t know was that Ronnie had been giving the whole issue of the transplant some very serious consideration that weekend and the conclusions she had drawn were not good news for Izzy.

‘Oh God. I can’t stand it,’ Ronnie wailed to Mark when they were alone in the lounge after Jack and Sophie had gone to bed. ‘She wants to go out, just me and her, to talk. You know what she wants to talk about.’

‘Well, she’ll have to wait until we’ve finished talking about it between ourselves,’ said Mark.

Truth be told, since they got the news that Ronnie was a match, the atmosphere in Mark and Ronnie’s house had been somewhat tense. Ronnie had been shocked by the news. There was no other way to put it. She’d simply never really considered that it could be her. She tried to be happy that she’d been discovered to be a match; that she could help a poorly child. She read everything she could lay her hands on about what it meant, looking for reassurance. And Jacqui had been
so
pleased. Ronnie couldn’t remember when she’d last felt quite so loved, appreciated and looked up to by the rest of her family. The donation would make her a heroine to her parents, her new sister, her niece …