Page 3 of A Part of Me and You
Killara. I bite my lip. My sweet, dear Killara where some of my fondest, maddest, most life changing memories were made. Now, contrary to my initial dismissal of his suggestion of a short getaway, I’m beginning to consider it.
‘Do you really think I could manage a trip there?’ I ask him. ‘It would be really strange to relive all those memories … but maybe it would be just what I need to distract me from what’s about to happen. Do you think I could?’
Michael’s excitement leaves his face for a second.
‘Ah okay. Maybe not there then,’ he says, knowing exactly what memories I am referring to.
I raise an eyebrow.
‘Maybe that’s not the ideal place,’ he retorts. ‘Forget I suggested it. How about somewhere like Barry Island? Or Weston-super-Mare? Caroline and I spent a great weekend there at Easter. Or Blackpool even?’
‘Too late, you’ve planted the seed of Killara,’ I tell him and his eyes are full of regret. ‘I’ve always wanted to go back, you know I have. Maybe nowisthe right time.’
‘I shouldn’t have said it,’ he replies. ‘What was I thinking? Tenby has a beautiful beach and I know how you love the sea.’
‘Look, I won’t be chasing any memories, Michael, I’m not that stupid,’ I tell him. ‘That would not be on my agenda even if Iwasto go to Killara and let’s face it, it’s a bit late for all that now. I wouldn’t dare to look him up.’
He rubs his temples. ‘Juliette?’
‘Well, you suggested it!’ I tell him. ‘Come on, Michael ofcourseit would be on my agenda. How could I go back there and not wonder where he is? Wouldn’t you? It’s something I’ve never faced up to, never told anyone about apart from my sister and obviously Dan knows a little about it, but now might be the right time. It makes sense actually. Imagine if—’
‘Juliette, please no!’ he interrupts me. ‘Your timing to go looking for him is … I can’t think of the word … you don’t need that sort of pressure I am sayingthatto you as your doctor.’
‘It wouldn’t betopof my agenda to find him, I promise,’ I explain. ‘But you have to agree, it would be so good to put a few old ghosts to bed, not to mention the obvious answers for Rosie. Physically, do you really think I could go there? Even after what you’ve told me today?’
Michael knows what I am asking.
‘Well, what I told you earlier is the unavoidable truth, unfortunately,’ he explains. ‘The brain tumour is like a ticking time bomb, but you’re not going to kick the bucket overnight. You’re feeling good right now so a week away won’t make any difference.’
We both can’t help but laugh at his choice of words. ‘Kicking the bucket’ sounds like something that old people do, not a forty-year-old woman like me who should have the world at my feet.
‘I know exactly what I’ll do,’ I say, as a brainwave hits my good-for-nothing, wasting away skull. ‘I’ll take Rosie with me. Her school holidays start soon … I could take her and we could spend some quality time together away from reality and it might help her, you know, find some sort of closure or understanding of what’s ahead of us both.’
‘Are you sure?’ he replies. ‘I never thought of that, taking Rosie. That could be good as long as you’re not going to go looking for old skeletons in closets. This is not the right time to tell the child about her—’
‘Oh God, Michael, whatamI going to tell her about all of this crap?’ I ask him, my head now in my hands. ‘She’s just fifteen years old for crying out loud. She wants to be thinking about boys and makeup tutorials on YouTube and the best way to get tickets to see Ed Sheeran – not her dying mother. My poor baby. What am I going to tell her?’
‘Take her away with you for a rest,’ says Michael, trying to keep me focused. ‘Go and spend some quality time with her as you said, wherever it is you choose to go, and give her some more precious memories to hold on to.’
‘But how do I tell her that I’m going to die?’
Michael pauses. The word ‘die’ hangs in the air.
‘It will come to you when the time is right,’ he whispers to me.
‘You think?’ I frown, squeezing my eyes tight so that I don’t dare cry. I don’t have time to cry.
‘I think, yes,’ he says gently. ‘Do things you can’t do with her here and … chill out and relax with her.’
‘Oh, Michael.’
‘Talk to her, read to her, walk with her, give her some last amazing memories to cling on to,’ he says. ‘Take pictures, make videos, paint, eat, relax … take her somewhere nice, Juliette. That’s about the best thing you can do for her – give her your time. You do know how children spell love?’
‘T – I – M – E!’ I say to him. ‘I gave you that line, thief.’
He shrugs at me. But he is right. His suggestion, as casual as I first thought it might be, has actually helped and I will leave this dreary hospital office with a purpose, something to cling on to and to make happen as soon as possible. I like his thinking. I will start to make plans. I’m good at making plans.
‘Will you miss me when I go?’ I ask him as I gather my handbag and coat from the back of the chair.
