Page 2 of Together Again at the Cornish Country Hospital

‘Come on then sweetheart, let’s get you fed.’ Finally hauling herself out of bed, Amy sighed as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. She looked every bit as tired as she felt, and she felt exhausted. Thank God for coffee, because she was going to need a hell of a lot of it.

* * *

An hour later, Amy was ready to leave for work, and the sight that greeted her in the hallway mirror was a lot less scary than her reflection in the bedroom had been. She didn’t wear a lot of make-up these days and she could look at herself in the mirror and recognise her good points, but it had taken a long time to get there. She’d been foolish enough to let some of the men in her life affect the way she saw herself, but not any more.

‘You’re like the ugly duckling in reverse.’ It was an insult her brother had levelled at her regularly in the past and it was something that had impacted her far more than she’d realised at the time. ‘You started out as a really cute kid and ended up like…’

He never finished the sentence, but he didn’t have to, the implication was loud and clear, and she knew what she was. If not ugly, at least nothing special. Since splitting up with her first ever boyfriend, who for some reason had genuinely seemed to think she was beautiful, she could probably count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times she’d been told she was. When it happened, it was usually a drunk guy in a club, taking his last chance at pulling by trotting out a line he didn’t mean. Her ex, Zach, who’d been on again and off again for much of the past five years had never once said it to her. Occasionally he’d grudgingly said she looked ‘nice’, if she’d pushed him for a verdict on her appearance, but he hadn’t been effusive to say the least, and his wandering eye – not to mention other wandering parts of his anatomy – had told her all she needed to know about how much she’d mattered to him in the end.

Zach had been far freer with advice about what she could do to improve the way she looked. She couldn’t believe how willing she’d been to try some of his suggestions, or how long she’d put up with his behaviour, but men like Zach were very good at spotting vulnerability and that was something she’d had bucket loads of when they’d met. She had still been nursing a broken heart from the end of her first ever serious relationship, even though it had been over for years. She’d been the one to end things, because she’d never felt good enough. And she’d rather finish it on her own terms, when it was eventually going to happen anyway. She hated feeling that way about herself, so when Zach had started to suggest ‘little changes’, it was the desire to improve her self-esteem that had persuaded her to give those things a go, until in the end the girl looking back at her in the mirror didn’t even feel like Amy any more. Suddenly she had long, sleek hair that fell down past her shoulder blades, the result of scarily expensive extensions, and that was just the start. Zach had bought her a makeover treatment at a local salon one Christmas, which had involved permanent make-up and Russian eyelash extensions, amongst other things. Amy had to admit the result was transformative, but she felt uncomfortable in this strange new skin and, even if she’d wanted to maintain it, she just didn’t have the time. Long fake nails hadn’t been practical for work either, and bit by bit she’d realised that rather than building her confidence, feeling as if she had to look completely different had eroded her self-esteem even further instead.

Zach hadn’t been impressed when she’d ditched his suggestions and gone back to looking like the girl he’d first met, but the most surprising part was that Amy wasn’t that girl any more. She’d changed in ways she’d never imagined, ways that lasted far longer than any beauty treatment ever could. She finally knew who she was and what it was she wanted. It didn’t mean she didn’t make any effort with her appearance, but the choices she made now were for her and what made her feel good.

The relationship with Zach been a huge learning curve, it had taught her she was worth so much more than he had to offer. Amy had built a life for herself she could be proud of, and that realisation had finally given her the confidence she’d been searching for in all the wrong places. She loved her job and, in her most recent performance review, Esther had said she had what it took to go ‘all the way’ with her nursing career. Even better than that, she had a great group of friends who didn’t want to change anything about her. Amy’s parents told her all the time how proud they were, and even if her brother was difficult, every family had someone like that, didn’t they?

Finally breaking up with Zach for good had been the biggest confidence booster of all, and she was determined never to settle again. She might still believe in love, but if someone came into her life, there’d only be space for them if their presence made it better than it already was. She was never going to let a relationship take things away from her again. Amy would much rather it was just her and Monty forever, because life was pretty damn good as it was, even if the night shifts sometimes felt a tiny bit like torture.

‘Be a good boy, Monty. I’ll put some music on, so you don’t get lonely.’ Amy switched on the radio, as she always did when she had to leave the dog on his own.

She smiled for a moment as the strains of ‘I’m Your Man’ by Wham! suddenly filled the air, instantly transporting her back to another time and place. She could picture Lijah as if he was standing next to her, the first boy she’d ever loved, the one she’d pushed away despite desperately wanting him to stay. But nostalgia was every bit as dangerous as pretending to be someone she wasn’t, and Amy didn’t have time for either of those things any more.

‘Right sweetheart, I’ve really got to go to work.’ Amy bent down and stroked the little dog’s head one last time.

Her life might be a million miles away from the one Lijah led now, but that was fine with her. Who needed a rock-star lifestyle when you had an amazing job, a great group of friends and the cutest dog in Port Kara to come home to? That was more than enough for Amy and the past was exactly where it needed to be, firmly behind her.

3

It was 8a.m. and Gwen had already been up for three hours. Putting the coffee on her husband’s bedside table, she sat down with a thud, hoping that might be enough to wake him up. Barry groaned a bit, but didn’t open his eyes. Slipping an ice-cold hand under the cover, she heard him gasp when it made contact with his thigh. March had lived up to its promise to come in like a lion and it showed no sign of letting up even though there were only a few days left of the month. The wind outside was threatening to whip the heads off the daffodils that had turned the garden into a sea of yellow. It was the only part of the garden Gwen could stake a claim to. She had planted the bulbs years before and had then left them to their own devices. It was up to them whether they decided to grow or not. She loved having a pretty garden, but she hated gardening itself. It was too slow for her and required far too much patience. Thankfully Barry loved it.

‘Keep your hands to yourself woman, I’m not in the mood.’ Barry finally opened one eye.

‘If I move my hand a few inches upwards, I guarantee you’ll change your tune.’ She raised her eyebrows, and he smiled.

‘Why don’t you give it a go?’

‘I’ve got to get to work, sorry.’ She shrugged, but she was glad to see disappointment flit across her husband’s eyes. Even after more than forty-five years together, that side of their relationship had always been strong, and she knew from some of her much younger friends that lots of couples slid into companionship far earlier in their relationships. That was fine, if you were both happy with it, but she was convinced it was one of the things that kept her and Barry young. She got a kick out of giving near-the-knuckle advice to others, and forcing them to revise their opinion of people in their seventies. Except the truth was, just lately, it felt as if she was merely going through the motions. She was hoping the feeling would pass, just as it had during the menopause, but she was secretly relieved to have a reason to turn Barry down, rather than having to admit she didn’t have the desire at all just lately.

‘You do know you’re retired, don’t you? I thought this stage of our lives was going to be all about long, lazy lie-ins and breakfast with the papers.’

‘Have you forgotten who you’re married to?’ Gwen pulled a face. She couldn’t think of anything worse than slowing down; she’d always been a whirlwind and Barry had seemed to enjoy being caught up in the vortex. She’d been a midwife for five decades, had raised a family, and got involved in every community project she could find, as well as enough hobbies to mean that down time wasn’t an option. All the activity had helped her stay as slim as she’d been in her twenties, and she made an effort with her appearance, her ash-blonde hair cut into a sleek bob, subtle make-up, and a carefully chosen range of outfits that brought out the blue of her eyes. She and Barry squeezed in grandparenting duties when they could, but they didn’t offer regular childcare cover while their children worked, because they were just too busy. Running the hospital shop at St Piran’s Hospital and coordinating the volunteers was just the latest in a long line of responsibilities she’d taken on. Lately she had to admit it was taking its toll, but if the alternative for her was knitting, and a pipe and slippers for Barry, she’d grit her teeth and keep going.

‘How could I ever forget who I’m married to Gee, when it’s the best thing I ever did?’ He squeezed her hand. He was the only person who’d ever called her Gee, a nickname he’d given her years ago. Despite their busy lives, Barry had been the one constant. He was her best friend, co-adventurer and partner in crime, but just lately he’d begun to change, saying that maybe they shouldn’t be out of the house quite as much, or have so many hobbies. He’d recently suggested swapping dancing for golf, the idea of which had horrified Gwen, because it would have meant she had to admit to losing some of her get up and go too, and she was still hoping that would pass. Instead, her reaction had been to double down and volunteer for more shifts at the hospital, even though some days it felt like she was wading through treacle.

Barry’s eyes were still fixed on hers when he spoke again. ‘I just wish we could spend a bit more time together.’

‘We spend loads of time together, we’ve got the dance show coming up and?—’

‘I meant here, at home. Just the two of us.’

‘I thought we’d talked all this through. Did you make an appointment to see the doctor?’ Gwen’s tone was tight, but she couldn’t help herself. She was worried. Her friend Caroline’s husband had started wanting to do less and less, and it turned out he had prostate cancer. Deep down, she knew the situation wasn’t comparable and that the anxiety she was feeling was misplaced. Barry was still active and kept far busier than many men twenty years younger, but there was a deeply entrenched reason for her not wanting to slow down. It was something that terrified her and she wasn’t ready to admit, even to herself, that there’d been one or two warning signs just lately.

‘I’ll make an appointment to see the doctor if you do too.’ Barry’s eyes still hadn’t left her face. He could read her far too easily, but she shook her head so hard it hurt.

‘I don’t need to see a doctor.’

‘Gwen.’ His tone was forceful and his use of her full name added emphasis, but he wasn’t finished yet. ‘You’re exhausted, but you’re not sleeping, you’re losing weight and you’re pushing yourself to do stuff it’s obvious you don’t have the energy to do.’

‘No, I’m not,’ she snapped, unable now to silence the voice inside her head that was telling her Barry was right. Some of the symptoms he’d listed were so similar to the ones her mum had suffered. No. She couldn’t go there. She wouldn’t. ‘Maybe you’re right, maybe we both just need a little break and some time on our own together. They’re doing a pre-season deal at the hotel on the Sisters of Agnes Island. Could I persuade you to join me?’

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