Page 19 of Before You Say Goodbye

“I’m so sorry, Bowie,” she said. “I had no idea.”

“Please don’t apologise. How could you know? It’s my own stupid fault. I should have told you. I shouldn’t have let the other night go as far as I did without telling you what I’m going through, but it was perfect and it was so good to be around someone who doesn’t treat me like a china doll for once.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked. It felt like a really harsh way to ask the question, but she couldn’t think of any other way to word it.

“I have lymphoma. Do you know what that is?”

“Cancer?” she asked.

Bowie nodded. “It’s cancer of the lymphatic system, a type of blood cancer. I was diagnosed when I was twenty-one with what’s referred to as low-grade advanced stage non-Hodgkin lymphoma. It was slow-growing but diagnosis took so long there was a lot of it, so I had chemotherapy and a treatment calledrituximab. It put me into remission for a while, but it’s come back several times since then, most recently a year ago. It makes me so tired, I can’t begin to explain how fatigued I feel some days. I shouldn’t have promised you I’d come back because I didn’t know I’d be able to. Some days I’m OK, like I was the other night. That was a good day for me, my pain was manageable and my fatigue was almost non-existent. That’s why I turned up to the show to watch Marley. I haven’t been able to do anything like that for ages, this cancer has stolen so much of my life. But yesterday, once I’d left here, I just felt worse and worse. I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. I barely had the energy to get myself home. I got into bed and I couldn’t get out again.”

“That sounds terrible,” she said sympathetically.

“I knew five minutes after we sat down in that café together that I wanted more from you than a one-night stand and I should have told you what you were getting yourself into. I’m really mad at myself.”

“It’s OK.” She lied. He was right, he should have told her. Probably before they’d slept together, most certainly before the morning after. But she didn’t think it was as big a deal as he was making it out to be. Now that she knew, they could handle it together. She could encourage him to sleep and excuse him if he wasn’t feeling well. She moved in to kiss him, but he shook his head, swallowed, and said,

“I’m going to die, Autumn.”

Autumn felt her body go rigid with shock. She searched his face for any hint of over-dramatisation, desperate for something, anything, but there was nothing. She no longer knew exactly what her own features were doing, but the ball in her throat told her she might cry, so she turned away from him, trying to hide her disbelief. Bowie let her absorb his words for a moment, then reached out to take each of her hands in his. She knewinstinctively he’d done it because he needed her to listen to what he was saying, so she forced herself to look at him.

“My cancer has always been incurable. I’ve always known it was something I’d have to live with for the rest of my life. But it was low-grade, so slow-growing. I’d go into remission for years at a time, then it would come back, we’d monitor it and I’d manage the pain until it was time for treatment, then we’d go through the whole thing again, chemo, radiotherapy and other treatments, sometimes months at a time in hospital, the hair loss, the weight loss, the weakness, the sickness and the pain . . . pain I can’t even describe, Autumn, just hoping I’d get more cancer-free time this time, that I’d be one of the many people who live to a ripe old age fighting this off whenever it shows up. But the last time a lump appeared and I was tested, I was told it was transforming into high grade non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. That means it grows quickly. It’ll respond better to treatment, but there’s a higher chance it will come straight back. And the treatment is . . . intense. I can’t go through it again. These treatments, they’re life-altering. They have a lasting impact on your body. They cause other issues, long-term side effects I don’t want to deal with, not when I know it’s going to get me eventually. So many people fight this disease successfully, but I’ve known for a while I’m not going to be one of them.”

“Oh my God.”

“I should have told you. There is no excuse.”

She agreed with him. He absolutely should have told her. Not before the first time they had slept together, but as they’d talked over tea and cake. He should have told her then.

“Jesus Christ,” she said, putting her head in her hands.

“Bluebell is furious with me,” he said, lowering his voice. “And with you, for sleeping with me.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

They turned to look at Bluebell, standing in the bedroom doorway. Autumn wasn’t sure how long she’d been there. She stared between them, then stalked across the room until she was in front of them, swinging her coffee cup in her hand. Autumn let go of Bowie.

“So, first you fuck my brother . . .” She was counting Autumn’s transgressions on her fingers. “Then you meet me for lunch the next day and you don’t think to mention it?”

Bowie opened his mouth to speak, but Bluebell gestured at him with her mug.

“Don’t even get me started on you.” Autumn thought she heard Bowie catch a laugh, but his sister either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it, turning her attention back to Autumn, instead.

“I-I thought you’d be angry,” Autumn said.

“Iamfucking angry.” Bluebell gesticulated wildly. “What on earth were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“Come on, pal.” Bluebell eyed her sceptically. “This ismeyou’re talking to.” She threw herself dramatically onto the stool beside Autumn’s dressing table, slouching despondently.

“I know how much you love me,” she continued. “You want me to believe you didn’t give me a single thought in any of this?”

Autumn shook her head. “At first I did, but, then, no, I didn’t. Not really. Not until the next day. I forgot he was your brother for most of the night.”

Bluebell tried to hide her smirk, but couldn’t. “I should fucking hope so, too,” she mumbled.

Autumn was hit by a wave of relief. Once Bluebell’s humour barrier had been broken down, Autumn knew she found it very difficult to return to an angry state. She was too light-hearted.

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