Page 9 of A Midlife Gamble

Suppressing a smile, Helen moved to collect a carafe of water from a side table. She poured a cup, and the next thing Kay was aware of, was hands supporting, and easing her up. Hands pushing the clump of hair back from her brow, and hands positioning the cup in her own hands, which shook with the effort of holding it. She put her cracked lips to the straw and the first sip slipped down her throat. The coolest, most delicious water that had ever existed. Within moments she had drained the glass, a sharp reality drawing the room and its contents, Helen’s face and Caro, the vertical frame of the window, into a solid mass. She was no swaying candle, and there was no metal cradle to keep her flame from going out. She took a deep breath in and although the pain was still there, the padded wall of the morphine kept it at a manageable distance.

‘Here.’

A warmth cupped her hands. Helen’s hands, over her own, easing the cup away because, she could see now, her hands were shaking badly. ‘I thought,’ she said, watching Helen place the cup back on the table, ‘that I was dead.’

‘You’re not dead.’ Helen turned to her.

Kay nodded. ‘I thought that it was going to be over someone’s dead body before you two were ever in the same room again. I assumed it was mine.’

‘No one,’ Caro said firmly, ‘is dead.’

‘You were dreaming.’ Helen smiled. ‘About a silver jacket.’

‘Was I?’

‘Your Vegas jacket?’ Helen said and sat down on the edge of the bed.

‘Ouch!’ Kay recoiled in pain.

‘Oh God! I’m sorry!’ Helen stood again. ‘I need to lose some weight,’ she muttered. ‘Sorry, Kay…’

Kay smiled. ‘I can recommend a good diet,’ she said, and with a wave of her hand that exhausted her, indicated for Helen to sit again. She closed her eyes. So, they were back in the same room. She tried to imagine what had happened, what might have been said… But it was no good, all her thoughts were met by a fog as dense as night. She was muffled and swaddled and deeply content to see the two of them together again.

‘Has Alex been in?’ Caro said quietly.

Kay shook her head. ‘I told him not to… He doesn’t like hospitals… He… He…’ Turning to Caro, her face collapsed. ‘What’s going to happen to him?’ she sobbed, all the sweet contentment of a moment ago, lost. ‘How’s he going to cope on his own? He can’t live on his wage, my savings won’t… I…’ And then once again, hands were holding her, cradling her, easing her down to the pillow and she was floating, ever-so-gently persuaded into a chasm where she knew an immense rest waited. She heard a chair scrape and a voice, Helen.

‘You’re not to worry about anything, Kay. We’re here. Caro and me, are here for you and Alex.’

‘You need to sleep now.’ It was Caro.

‘Is there anything we can get you before we go?’

But Kay was already far away, dreaming in flashes of silver, sequins that winked.

PARTII

5

EARLY MARCH

Sammy's list to live for!

1. Be blonde!

2. Scatter mum's ashes

3. Buy Versace jeans and wear them

4. Renew passport

5. Ride in a DeLorean

6. See George Might-be

‘Can you see it?’ Stretching her arm out, Kay held her phone up to show them the photo displayed on the screen. ‘I met her at this cancer workshop I went to. We all had to write aList to Live For,and Sammy wrote this. It was so funny I had to take a photo. She didn’t mind.’

Sitting on the opposite couch, both Helen and Caro leaned forward.

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