Page 65 of A Midlife Gamble

They never went back to the casino.

The next morning Marianne texted Tony to ask for the return of Kay’s chips, which she’d left on the Blackjack table. He hadn’t responded, but later that same morning the desk clerk had handed Marianne an envelope with the chips inside. All four thousand dollars’ worth. There had also been a handwritten note, which Marianne had read, her face impassive, as she’d slipped it back into the envelope.

They’d takenanother long stroll along the strip and each bought themselves a new pair of pumps from a shoe vending machine, just because such a thing as a shoe vending machine existed! The money had gone in and a can had rolled out, and when they unpeeled the lids, out had popped a rolled-up pair of gloriously cushioned pumps.

They’d cheeredat the Cirque du Soleil and sung along with the Elton and Aretha impersonators at Legends in Concert.And finally they had taken a helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon. Where, hovering above that astonishing landscape, the metaphysical enormity of it had silenced them. It would have been impossible not to be humbled by the view, not to feel as if life was bigger and more various than they could ever hope to understand. Transported by the majesty, once again Kay had been left with a feeling of resolute calm. As if she knew she was ready now to face whatever was coming. And it hadn’t been a sad feeling. Not at all. Stepping off the helicopter, images of the six-million-year-old landscape still clear in her mind, she had been profoundly light of heart and deeply, deeply, happy. Which was extraordinary. Because hadn’t she accepted that happiness was unachievable for her now? That the best she could hope for, going forward, would be calm acceptance? Yes, she was living under a death sentence, but so was every other living creature. Rolling over with calm acceptance wasn’t, she had decided, going to be her way forward after all. She’d already talked to Marianne about visiting Cyprus later in the summer.

And now,on this, the last day, she leaned back against the cushioning of her seat, coffee cup in her hands, and smiled. She couldn’t wait to get back and see Alex. She’d bought him an artificial orchid from the Botanical Gardens, intending to put it in a pot on the kitchen windowsill and see how long it took for him to notice it wasn’t real. About five minutes, she guessed. Orchids were one of Alex’s specialist subjects, and she knew too well the breadth and depth of knowledge he was capable of gathering on the things that interested him. Flags, were another example. It was best never to get him talking about flags. Or motorcycles, which to her immense relief he seemed to be turning away from. Again, she smiled. She couldn’t wait to see him.

‘Ooff!’ The noise Helen made was akin to a tyre punctured.

‘Are you ok?’ Kay said.

Helen grimaced. ‘Eaten too much. Again.’ She slipped her hand under her waistband to lift it free of her belly.

‘Me too,’ Caro said and surreptitiously undid the top button of her shorts.

Helen smiled. ‘I never thought I’d see the day when you had to do that! Welcome to my world, Caro!’

‘It’s Vegas,’ Caro shrugged. ‘You’re meant to over-indulge.’

‘Has anyone managed to find out what breakfast ham is yet?’ Kay said.

‘Ham you eat at breakfast would be my guess,’ Helen said flatly, and they all laughed.

All around cutlery chinked, pans brimmed, mouths chewed, hash browns fried, waffles popped, and maple syrup hung in the air, cloyingly sweet. And watching her two oldest friends in the world, easy and comfortable in each other’s company again, Kay briefly closed her eyes and gave a prayer of thanks to whoever might be listening.

‘So what’s first? For the last day,’ Helen said, mopping the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

‘Kay decides,’ Caro said. ‘Only no more charts?’

Kay laughed. ‘I promise. Charts can wait.’ Here, she knew, was another explanation for the extraordinary way she felt.

After cashing in her winning chips, Caro had called a conference in her hotel room. And with herself and Helen perched on the edge of the bed, and Marianne and Kay in chairs, she had set her laptop on a table between them and showed Kay where she intended to invest the four thousand dollars. If Kay was honest, the technical talk of tracking errors and exchange privileges had befuddled her, but the figures hadn’t. When the time came, if the markets behaved as they had always behaved, Alex, Caro had explained, could expect to retire with a lump sum, that, added to his state pension, would give him a modest degree of comfort. The degree of comfort it gave Kay, when Caro had shown her the chart, was immeasurable. No, she wouldn’t be there, but she had managed to put her arms around him in every way she possibly could. And then Helen had leaned forward and said that her uncle, who owned the garden centre where Alex worked and who had given Alex the job in the first place, was adding Alex to the company pension scheme. He’d also asked Helen to assure Kay that, as far as he was concerned, Alex had a job for life. On hearing this, on looking across at Caro and Helen’s faces, and feeling the weight of Marianne’s arm on her shoulder, Kay had folded in half and sobbed with relief, each heavy tear a rope cut, allowing her to rise again to a lighter state of being.

‘Yes,’ Helen said now. ‘This is your trip, Kay. You choose.’ She leaned against the backrest, her cup in her hands. ‘Isn’t it lovely though? No dishes, no shopping.’

‘I’d like a photograph,’ Kay said suddenly. ‘There’s a place that had fancy dress. I’d like a photograph of the four of us together. As whatever it is we choose to be.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s Vegas after all.’

'Sounds fun,’ Helen said.

Caro nodded. ‘Where is Marianne by the way?’

'She’s coming,’ Kay said. ‘But I think she’s probably just having some quiet time. I expect she’s missing the peace of Cyprus.’

Caro nodded. Looking across at the crowded restaurant, she said, ‘It is a bit like being stuck in an airport, doomed forever to be queueing for a budget flight. Not that I know too much about budget flights.’

Helen smiled. Looking at Kay, she said, ‘Did she ever tell you what Tony had written?’

Kay shook her head. ‘No. And I haven’t asked.’

‘She must be disappointed. Him sweeping in like a knight in shining armour, and then turning out to be nothing of the sort.’

‘Oh I don’t know,’ Kay mused. ‘Marianne is the last person to be needing a knight in shining armour.’

‘I hope so,’ Helen murmured. ‘I hope so.’

‘Ilovehow tall I am,’Kay yelped. She was wearing a green leotard, with tasselled edging and an extravagant fringed choker. On her head, a green skull cap, from which sprouted, two feet into the air, a plume of green feathers She put her hands on her hips and looked down at her feet, at the spangly green peep-toe heels that gave her four extra inches.

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