Never Say Goodbye (13 page)

Eventually, just after four, the nurse Yvonne, who seemed to be run off her feet, came to get her.

‘Sorry this has taken so long,’ Yvonne apologised. ‘We’ve had quite a few referrals to get through today, and we’re all behind with ourselves. Anyway, here we are. Go on in and sit down, Mr Beck’ll be right with you.’

‘I’m already here,’ he called out, drying his hands as he appeared round the screen. ‘Hello again, Josie. Sorry to have kept you.’

‘That’s OK,’ she assured him, pleased that he’d remembered her name, ‘as long as you’re going to give me some good news,’ she added chirpily.

His smile told her nothing as he sat down in front of his two-screen computer and waited for her to sit down too.

Finding herself on the edge of the seat, she tried to slide back, but couldn’t.

‘Well,’ he began, his lovely brown eyes coming to hers, ‘I’m sorry to tell you that your lump is showing all the signs of being cancer . . .’

She started to sway.

‘Of course we’re going to run a lot of tests to find out more about it, starting with a core biopsy . . .’

Josie was losing track of his words. They were coming at her too fast. Had he really just told her she had cancer? He’d said something about tests, so maybe he still wasn’t sure.

‘. . . which I’d like to carry out now,’ he was saying. ‘It’s very quick. We’ll give you a local anaesthetic to make sure you don’t feel anything. Are you aware of what a biopsy is?’

She nodded, then shook her head.

‘It means I’m going to remove some tissue from the lump so we can send it off to the lab for analysis. This’ll confirm it’s cancer and tell us the type and grade you have, and from there we can decide how we’re going to treat it.’

‘So . . .’ Josie cleared her throat. ‘So, I will have to have treatment?’

His smile was gentle. ‘Yes, you will,’ he confirmed. His eyes didn’t waver from hers. ‘The tenderness of your breast and the puckering of the skin tells me that you almost certainly have what we call an inflammatory cancer.’

Her mind switched off again; she didn’t want to hear any more. The trouble was, his words just kept getting through.

‘. . . so are you ready to get undressed again now?’

She swallowed drily. She wasn’t sure any of this was sinking in, yet at the same time it was so terrifyingly real it was making it impossible to move.

She had cancer.

She was that
one in fifty
.

What was she going to do? She couldn’t afford to have cancer. She had to work. Jeff would go mad. The children needed her . . .

Mr Beck was on his feet, directing her towards the couch.

Standing up, she began taking off her coat, jumper and bra. Yvonne was here now. She couldn’t remember seeing her come in.

The injection for the anaesthetic didn’t hurt, or not very much.

Don’t cry, Josie. That would just make everyone embarrassed.

A few minutes later, Mr Beck made sure she was numb and said, ‘OK, this is going to sound a little bit like a staple gun going off. You won’t feel anything, but the noise might make you jump.’

Her eyes were closed. She didn’t want to watch.

He was right about how it sounded, but she didn’t jump, probably because he’d prepared her.

‘OK, all over,’ he announced, straightening up again.

She opened her eyes and wanted to beg him to make her all right.

She should have come sooner.

This was all her fault; she only had herself to blame.

After applying a dressing, Yvonne said, ‘Is there anyone you’d like to call? Perhaps someone could come and pick you up?’

‘No, no, I’m fine,’ Josie assured her. ‘The bus stop’s right outside.’

‘It shouldn’t be long before we hear back from the labs,’ Mr Beck told her. ‘They tend to be pretty quick these days.’

She could wait for ever.

‘If you experience any discomfort from the wound,’ Yvonne said, as Mr Beck excused himself, ‘don’t be afraid to take painkillers.’

Josie nodded absently. She wondered how many other women had been in here today, and of them how many had heard the same sort of news she just had.

‘It can’t be all that easy doing your job,’ she commented, buttoning her coat.

‘It’s lovely when we make someone well again,’ Yvonne assured her.

Josie wanted to ask if they were going to make her well, but being afraid of the answer, all she said was, ‘Yes, I can imagine that part is what it’s all about really.’ Hearing her mobile vibrating she pulled it out of her pocket and saw there was a text from Mr Crover-Keene.

Got your message about changing days this week, that’s fine. I was hoping to have a little chat with you before Saturday if possible, so could you call when you have time. Thanks
.

Guessing he wanted to make sure she was done and gone before his guests arrived, she put the phone back in her pocket. ‘Is it OK to go home now?’ she asked Yvonne. ‘My husband’ll be wanting his tea on the table and if the traffic’s bad I’ll end up being late.’

‘You’ve had a bit of a shock,’ Yvonne reminded her, ‘so it might be a good idea to sit quietly for a minute or two. And if there’s anything you want to ask, you just go right ahead. It’s what I’m here for.’

Josie looked away awkwardly. She could tell Yvonne thought she might not have taken everything in, and maybe Yvonne was right, but she’d heard enough for today. She tried to inhale, but found her chest was too heavy to take in any air.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to call someone?’ Yvonne pressed kindly. ‘A friend, maybe?’

Josie shook her head. She was thinking about Dawnie again, but that was just daft when Dawnie was history.

‘You shouldn’t keep this to yourself,’ Yvonne cautioned. ‘The support of loved ones . . .’

‘It’ll be OK,’ Josie cut in, more harshly than she’d intended. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, and as though to make up for it, she said, ‘Mr Beck seems a very nice man.’

‘Yes, he’s one of our more popular surgeons. You’re with one of the best.’

That was good to know, except she didn’t want to be with him at all. ‘So, what – what he’s saying,’ she stammered, ‘is that it’s definitely cancer?’

‘What he’s saying is that your test results should be back within a couple of weeks . . .’

‘Is there – is there anything I should do during those weeks?’ Josie interrupted, already wondering how she was going to get through them with this hanging over her. ‘I mean, is there a particular food I should give up, or an exercise I should do? I’ve got one of them Pilates balance boards: my husband gave me it for Christmas. The doctor said I should use it to try and strengthen my core. I was getting these backaches, you see. My husband gets them too. I’m sure it’s our mattress. We’ve had it since we got married, which is over twenty years, so time we looked into getting a new one.’

Fat chance of affording one. They had to sort out the car first.

The nurse was speaking. ‘What sort of backaches?’ she asked.

Josie frowned. She didn’t know there was more than one sort.

Yvonne smiled. ‘I’ll be back in two shakes, just wait here.’

Left alone, Josie stared down at the blank computer screen and tried to think what to do. Part of her wanted to scarper before the nurse reappeared, but suddenly she was afraid to leave. Once she was out of here it was going to be just her and the cancer, and everywhere she went it would come too. It was hard trying to make herself accept that her body was being invaded by something so awful and destructive.

Inflammatory cancer
. It sounded so bad, but maybe it was something that flared up and then just calmed down again. It probably wasn’t quite as simple as that, but it could be something along those lines.

You’re going to have to be brave, Josie. It’s not the end of the world, people have been through a lot worse, so you can get through this.

‘Sorry,’ the nurse smiled as she came back, ‘I needed to catch Mr Beck before he left for the day, and I grabbed some literature for you to take home with you. It’ll answer a lot of questions you probably haven’t even thought of yet.’

‘Thank you,’ Josie mumbled, taking the leaflets. ‘I really should be going now.’ She attempted a smile. ‘You’ve been very kind.’

Twenty minutes later she was on the bus, sitting squashed between the window and a woman who was so large that she really needed the entire seat to herself. Josie was barely aware of her as she stared out at the passing streets, vaguely dazzled by headlights and neon shopfronts as they passed in a surreal sort of blur. She was thinking about Jeff and Lily and Ryan and what this was going to mean to them. It was sure to scare them half out their minds, especially Lily and Ryan. She couldn’t do it to them, she just couldn’t. Lily had her finals and wedding to be thinking about, and Ryan depended on her visits . . .

She felt so choked up all of a sudden that it was hard to stop herself crying.

Feeling sorry for yourself’s not going to make it any better, is it?
she scolded herself.

Anyway, people were getting breast cancer all the time, and most of them survived. Or she thought most of them did.

‘Your GP will be kept informed of everything,’ Yvonne had said as she’d walked her out, ‘and you’ll find details of local support groups in the brochures I gave you. I’ve written my number on one of them, in case you have any further questions.’

Panic suddenly welled up inside her.
I don’t want support groups or brochures, or anything else. Please, please, please, don’t let me have cancer.

Remembering the woman she’d spoken to earlier, she felt a shaky calm returning. A lumpectomy and radiotherapy didn’t sound too bad, and the woman had been there on her own so she obviously wasn’t being a burden to anyone else, dragging them along to go through it all with her. If she, Josie, could have something like that woman had, it would be over and done with in no time at all and she could get on with her life. She might not even have to take any time off work, which would be a blessed relief, because no way in the world could they manage without the little bit she brought in.

Realising her phone was vibrating, she turned it over to see a text from Lily.

Hey Mum. Any chance you can come to Bristol this w/e? I know we can’t see Ryan, but have an appt with dress designer. Would be brill if you were there too.

Though gripped in the horror of what was happening, Josie managed to text back.

Working in morning, but could be there by two thirty. Is that OK?

Totally cool. Will meet you at station.

Minutes later another text came through, this one from Jeff.

Where the heck are you? I’m starving.

Be home in about ten minutes,
she messaged back.
Some crisps in cupboard to be going on with. Make a start on potatoes.

He texted back:
Already peeled. Boiled or chips?

Boiled. We’ll have some mash with sausage and beans.
As far as she could remember there was one tin left, so if they shared half of it they could have the other half tomorrow.

A few minutes later she sent him another text saying,
Why don’t we open a bottle of that wine Jasper brought and have an early night?

By the time she was ready to get off the bus he still hadn’t responded, which could have been because he’d left his phone in the lounge while he was in the kitchen. Or the telly was up too loud; or maybe he just wasn’t in the mood. She didn’t blame him when his car was causing so much hassle.

It was lovely that he was going to be there when she got in with their tea already under way, and the gas fire on for some warmth. It was a lot more than some women could hope for, those whose husbands were forever in the pub, or down the dog track, or in some other woman’s bed. Jeff had never been much of a drinker, or a gambler, and as far as she knew the only time he’d ever been unfaithful was that once with Dawnie.

Tonight it was bothering her more than it had for a long time to think of how two people she loved so much had betrayed her. She’d never forget the day she’d caught them in Dawnie’s front room with the curtains pulled. She’d assumed Dawnie had one of her headaches so was having a lie-down. She’d been lying down all right, and she’d probably had a terrible headache after, the way she’d cracked her skull on the table as she’d shot to her feet. What she’d been doing down there with Jeff hadn’t left anything to the imagination.

One of the worst parts of it had been finding out just how serious they were about each other. They’d never have done it, they’d assured her, if it hadn’t meant something; it was like they just couldn’t help themselves.

A quick fling would have been easier to bear.

A lot of cruel things had been said afterwards, plenty of them by her, but Dawnie hadn’t held back either. It had been a terrible time, trying to keep it from the children while everyone wondered why she and Dawnie weren’t speaking, jumping to their own conclusions and finding out soon enough that they were right. In the end Dawnie had rung Josie to say,

‘We can’t go on living around one another, not after this. I’ve got really strong feelings for Jeff, and they won’t go away if I carry on seeing him.’

Jeff had never actually said what his feelings were for Dawnie, but Josie had felt sure that if it weren’t for the children he’d have upped and gone with Dawnie and she’d never have seen them again. If that had happened it would have broken her heart so badly it might never have mended. Thankfully it hadn’t. Jeff was still here, and though the first couple of years after the affair had been rough on their marriage, they were more or less back to normal now. Or that was what she liked to tell herself, but if she was being honest, Jeff had never been the same since Dawnie had gone. He didn’t light up inside the way he used to when something made him laugh, nor was he the man everyone had to have at their party. Sometimes she told herself it was shame that had changed him; after all, he wouldn’t feel proud of hurting her, whether he still loved her or not. Other times she felt sure he was wondering when might be the right time to go.

Hopping off the bus, she hunched more cosily into her coat as she headed towards home.