Another Way to Fall (22 page)

Meg left the room quietly under Louise’s gentle guidance. Emma pretended not to hear the howls of anguish that echoed down the corridor just before the door closed behind them.

‘Are you alright?’ Emma asked Ben.

‘You’re asking me?’ Ben whispered, rubbing his face. He had sat as still as a statue, not saying a single word as the tragedy that was Emma’s life unfolded before him. She knew he was numb with shock and she felt renewed guilt for bringing him into her world.

‘I’d like to say this is as bad as it gets, but it’s going to get worse, Ben.’

Emma looked away from him and smoothed the blanket over her legs, extending her hands across the width of the bed to claim her territory. She didn’t want Ben to join her on the bed; she could only say what needed to be said as long as she didn’t have to feel him next to her. She had to try one more time.

‘I need you to think very carefully about this,’ she began. The thud of her heart was almost deafening now. She had already played out this scene in her head, only in her mind’s eye, she was about to board a plane.

The flight to Paris had been delayed. Perhaps if it hadn’t, things might have been different.

We had spent days doing nothing except lying in each other’s arms, talking to each other, loving each other. The time we had was precious and we savoured every moment. I was about to resume my jet-setting lifestyle, two weeks before my thirty-fifth birthday. Ben had been insistent that I shouldn’t compromise my own dreams for his and we had both agreed that it would be better for him to remain at the cottage to start work on his business in earnest.

‘I’m going to miss you,’ he said, taking both my hands in his. We were standing beneath a flight-information board where the delay had just been announced. Tenderly, he began to kiss each of my fingers, stopping at the third finger of my left hand where a single diamond glinted. A self-satisfied smile appeared on his face.

‘You’ll be far too busy to notice I’m even gone,’ I told him.

‘I wish it was that simple. I’m going to be lost without you.’

‘You’ll find your way,’ I assured him.

‘I’ll be bereft,’ he insisted and it was his insistence that made me visualize what our future might look like, especially what Ben’s future might look like. The scenes that played out in my mind’s eye horrified me and I cursed my furtive imagination.

I pulled my hands away from his as if an electric shock had passed between us.

‘Emma?’ he had asked. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I need you to think very carefully before you answer this,’ I began. ‘Is this how you pictured it? Finding the love of your life and then watching her fly away?’

Ben seemed confused, uncertain about where I was leading and not sure he should follow. ‘I don’t understand, Emma. It’s not about how long we spend together it’s about making the most of the time we do have.’

He was shaking his head, as if to deny what was happening before his very eyes. I had taken off my engagement ring. ‘I won’t let you do it, Ben. I won’t let you sacrifice your own happiness for mine.’

Emma was struggling to catch her breath as she brought the scene to an end. She looked down at her left hand, which was shaking. There was no engagement ring but there never had been. She wasn’t standing in the middle of an airport, she was sitting in her hospital bed,

She chanced a look in Ben’s direction and as soon as she met his eyes, she was captured by him. He reached over and took her hand, kissed her fingers, never taking his eyes off her. ‘I’m not sacrificing my happiness, can’t you see that?
You
are my happiness. Don’t condemn me to a life of regret, wishing I had spent more time with you.’

‘But you will spend the rest of your life wishing you’d had more time with me, that’s the point.’

‘All the more reason to spend as much time as I can with you now. It ends here, Emma,’ he said sternly. ‘If you really care about me then stop pushing me away.’

‘I do care. I love you.’

‘And I love you, with all my heart and soul. I’m here to stay, come what may.’

It took Emma an immense amount of concentration to stop herself from floating away on a wave of euphoria. If she had still been on high-dose morphine she would have been unable to resist but she had Ben’s gaze to anchor her. ‘You do realize this means were going to get married, don’t you?’

There was no gasp of shock as she had expected, only a mischievous smile. ‘Really?’ Ben asked.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll do my best to keep it in the realms of my imagination.’

‘Don’t feel you have to try too hard,’ he said.

There were still so many thoughts and emotions that Emma had to wrestle with and even as her mind cleared of morphine, the constant interruption and invasion of her privacy left no place to withdraw to and no time to confront the consequences of the decisions she had made.

Emma couldn’t wait to leave hospital but her recovery was slower this time and her return to fitness was not expected to be as complete. At least her sight was improving day by day. She cast her eyes over the collection of cards lined up on the window ledge, conveying good wishes and much love. Not one said get well soon. Even her father had been sensitive enough to avoid that platitude although his card remained in its envelope, along with a contribution to the treatment that was already being cancelled as he posted the card. Emma hadn’t had a chance to reply to his email and gave little thought of ever doing so; there were more important things to consider, if only her mind could focus for long enough.

Above the line of cards, the window blind had been opened fully to reveal a wet and windy winter’s morning. Bare treetops exposed barren bird’s nests swaying precariously in the breeze. She was starting to fear that she would never see another spring.

Before her mood was allowed to spiral into despair, there was a timely interruption as Peter appeared at her door.

‘I was starting to think you were avoiding me,’ she told him.

Emma knew she had hit a raw nerve by his sheepish smile and her bruised and battered mind connected pieces of a puzzle she had almost forgotten.

‘It’s only a quick visit,’ he said. ‘I just wanted to let you know that I’m up to speed with your treatment plan. If you have any questions now, or once you’ve been discharged, I can get you the answers.’

‘As always,’ Emma said with a half-concealed smile. ‘Here’s your first question then. Why would you be photographed at Bannister’s office party?’

Peter’s cheeks reddened. ‘What photograph?’

‘A photo of Ally.’

‘Oh.’

‘Care to elaborate?’

Peter put his hands in his pockets and started kicking at an invisible spot on the linoleum floor. ‘Yes, I was there … with Ally.’

‘So why the secrecy? Even Gina hasn’t mentioned it. You have been avoiding me, haven’t you?’

‘Has anyone ever told you how pushy you are?’ he said with a note of exasperation in his voice.

‘All the time. So what is there to be embarrassed about? Ally wasn’t just a notch on your bedpost was she? A one-night stand?’ Emma asked, half joking but the punch line fell flat. ‘It was a one-night stand?’

‘No, it wasn’t like that,’ Peter replied defensively. ‘I know I’m a terrible flirt but for the record, I don’t do that kind of thing.’

‘But for Ally, you made an exception?’

Peter twisted his foot into the floor as he squirmed under Emma’s scrutiny. ‘I like Ally and under other circumstances I would have wanted to see more of her and I think she felt the same.’

‘But?’

Peter stopped moving and looked up. ‘But you, Emma.’

‘Me?’ she asked. Her fractured mind briefly considered if Peter was about to confess his undying love but reassuringly, she hadn’t become that delusional.

‘You’re Ally’s best friend and she’s struggling. I wanted to comfort her but I’ve seen too much here. There’s no way I would be able to say anything that could put her mind at ease, I’d only make her feel worse. So I didn’t get back in touch with her and she didn’t phone me. I think we both thought it was for the best.’

‘Oh,’ Emma said guiltily. ‘I’m sorry, Peter.’

He shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it. There are worse things in life.’

‘Yes, there are but I’d like to think that if I can’t be there for my friends, I can at least make sure they have a shoulder to cry on. Do you think there might be a chance between you two?’

‘I would have liked things to have worked out differently but it really depends on Ally now.’

Emma gave Peter a conspiratorial wink. ‘Leave it to me.’

‘Like I said, pushy,’ he said with a smile.

‘Speaking of pushy, can you tell Sally Anne that I want to take a bath? She seems to think I’m not well enough.’

Emma’s nurse took some persuading but Peter eventually convinced her that there was little point in arguing.

Although Emma was looking forward to her first bath, she dreaded the part where Sally Anne had to help her to get into the bath. She felt self-conscious about her body now more than ever. Her skin was dry and sore from some of the drugs she was taking and she had put on a little more weight than she would have liked in the last couple of months thanks to the steroids.

Sally Anne filled the bath with warm water and an emollient to moisturize her skin and Emma held back until the last minute before slipping off her robe and clambering into the steaming water.

‘I’ll leave you in peace but I’ll only be next door writing up my notes. Just make sure you don’t get your scalp wet or I’ll be in trouble,’ warned Sally Anne. ‘The alarm button’s there if you need me.’

‘Thanks,’ answered Emma as she sat scrunched up in the bath to hide her embarrassment.

It was only when the door closed that Emma began to relax. She slipped deeper into the water. The rain was beating against the frosted window and a storm was raging but Emma felt cocooned in the bathwater, which soothed and warmed her. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself a moment longer to savour the peace before forcing herself to think about the future.

She waved her hand through the water, feeling its resistance against her palm and listening to the ripples radiate outwards and hit the side of the bath. The residue of morphine in her system provided its own resistance as she tried to focus her mind. Drawing strength from within, Emma sat up again and dipped a cloth in the water before placing it over her face. She let the water trickle slowly downwards, tickling her cheeks before dripping off her chin and softly falling into the water where new ripples caused the surface of the water to tremble.

With her eyes open, she looked beyond the cloth in front of her, towards a place she was frightened to go. There were still more decisions to take and she was starting to realize that she couldn’t delude herself into thinking that any part of her life was going to be normal ever again. She had already stepped away from work, now she had to accept that she would never return. Cutting back on her involvement in the bistro would not be so easy but there would have to be some kind of withdrawal. Her mum had been right, her sister really did need to learn to stand on her own two feet. Emma wasn’t going to be around forever.

Finally, her thoughts turned to Ben and those thoughts immediately led to the fictional life they were creating together. She still hadn’t been able to use her laptop and was beginning to wonder if it was worth continuing with something that she may not be able to complete. But the story had continued in her head of its own accord and she would be compelled to write it down when she could. Even now, her story was drawing her in and she didn’t fight it. The more space it occupied in her mind, the less room that would be available for her cancer and her fears, she told herself.

I was still holding back the tears as my stomach lurched. It was the moment where gravity released its grip and the plane took flight, tearing me away from the man I loved. Sunlight flared against my face as I watched the clouds fall below me. The bright blue sky stung my tearless eyes.

The plane dipped, my stomach lurched again and then the sun disappeared. Immersed in shadow, I felt tentacles of darkness reaching towards my heart. I closed my eyes and came face to face with the shopkeeper.

‘Take the box, Emma,’ was all he said.

The plane levelled off and I was returned to the light. I gasped as I thought of what I was about to do. Ben was the man I was meant to spend the rest of my life with. What had I done? Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. It was only then that I realized that I had already started to cry. Tears were running down my face, my nose was blocked and I was getting strange looks from the poor man seated next to me. I made my excuses, apologized for dropping drenched tissues on his lap and headed for the toilet cubicle to freshen up. My eyes were swollen and red and through blurred vision I made my way to the back of the plane. In my haste to be out of sight from curious onlookers, I snagged my skirt on someone’s seat.

‘Sorry,’ I blubbed to the man looking up towards me.

‘So you should be,’ he said sternly. ‘Do you realize what kind of hell you’ve put me through?’

I slumped onto his knee and buried my head in his neck as the torrent of tears restarted, falling down my face and onto Ben’s neck with renewed force. I couldn’t get rid of him that easy.

Emma pulled herself back into the real world, peeling the damp cloth from her face. She knew she had been possessed with a grim determination to take control of her life and accept that she was dying. It had been an unstoppable adrenalin rush that had swept away the drug-induced fog and it had got her through the painful conversations she’d had with her family, with Ben and with Mr Spelling. She had shrugged on a suit of armour, ready for battle and she already had some small victories under her belt. She knew she should be pleased with herself.

But as the water cooled, the cocoon she had slipped into didn’t feel quite so safe any more. She had set aside her suit of armour and she shivered in her nakedness. The water shivered in sympathy. There were two enemies she knew she couldn’t defeat and she had already spent the last five years getting to know the first, the monster in her head. The second enemy wasn’t exactly new but she had only just learnt the measure of it. That enemy was time.