Page 103 of The Forever Gift

‘We need to talk to more doctors,’ Mam says. ‘Get more opinions. Go to another hospital. Maybe in the UK, or the States, if necessary. It’ll be like an adventure. You’ll see. We’ve always wanted to go to America, haven’t we?’

I bum-shuffle forward on the bed, yelping when the cannula in my hand bites because I’ve accidently got the IV line tangled up and it’s pulling. Mam jumps up and untangles the wire quickly. She’s become so familiar with all the medical equipment.

‘There,’ she says, smiling. ‘All better.’

Then she turns away from me and I know it’s because her eyes are filling up with tears and she doesn’t want me to see. She turns away sometimes when the doctors are talking. Or when Molly is asking about when I’m coming to Dad’s for the weekend. And when she feels she’s said something stupid to upset me. Likeall better. It’s never going to be all better and we both know it.

‘Sorry, something in my eye,’ Mam says, turning back around.

‘Tears,’ I say.

Mam smiles. ‘When did you get so grown-up, huh? Feels like just yesterday you were sitting on the floor in Granny and Grandad’s house watching cartoons and singing along to all the songs, and look at you now, towering over me. You get your height from your dad, you know.’

‘Speaking of Dad,’ I say. ‘Do you think he’ll be okay with this? With my decision.’

‘Kayla, this isn’t your decision, you do know that, right?’

‘Mam, please. I need you to understand.’

‘I know this is all scary and it hurts, but I just want what’s best for you?—’

‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘You want to make me better. To keep me. But that’s not going to happen, Mam. It’s never going to happen. If you keep me – you keep me in this room.’

Mam looks around, sobbing and heartbroken.

‘I know that’s not the life you want for me. It’s not a life you’d want for anyone, is it?’

‘I need to talk to your dad,’ Mam says, her eyes round and puffy. ‘I can’t do this on my own, Kayla. I can’t. I can do most things alone. I’ve done most things alone. But not this. Definitely not this.’

FORTY-SIX

HEATHER

A week later

The kitchen is awash with muffins, cupcakes and brownies. I made extra brownies because brownies were a firm favourite with the kids on the ward, or so Kayla says, so I can only hope that the kids in her school will enjoy them just as much. I burnt the batch of cookies and had to throw them out. I haven’t had to throw anything out in years. I think it’s because I’m ridiculously nervous about today, for a whole variety of reasons.

I can hear Gavin, Charlotte and Molly walking around upstairs. Molly is clearly not happy to be woken at 6 a.m.

‘I don’t want to gooooo!’ she shouts, followed by some crying.

By the sound of Gavin’s gruff voice and lack of patience, he doesn’t appreciate the early start either. ‘You can sleep in the car, Molly. Now,please,will you just get dressed?’

Charlotte and I don’t have to worry about being woken up before dawn because we haven’t actually gone to sleep. Charlotte came downstairs around 1 a.m. and offered to help me bake. She said she couldn’t sleep and she wanted to be useful. I was nervous at first. I usually bakealone, and besides, if Charlotte’s cupboards are anything to go by she doesn’t stock anything that isn’t either organic or vegan, or preferably both. I thought she’d be horrified to see the ingredients going in to my muffins and brownies, but she didn’t seem all that bothered.

She must have been as anxious as I am because she kept checking her phone every few minutes as if she might receive wildly important messages in the middle of the night. I didn’t say anything. I guess she needed the distraction.

‘I’ll make us some coffee,’ she says, as she pulls up the kitchen blind to reveal that the sun is up and it really is morning time and today is actually happening.

‘Coffee would be great. Thanks,’ I say, piping some vanilla buttercream icing onto the last remaining bare muffin before dusting it with edible glitter in the school colours.

‘Can I have a muffin?’ Molly asks, coming into the kitchen with one shoe on and one off.

‘Not for breakfast,’ Charlotte says, before I have a chance to answer. ‘And where is your other shoe?’

Molly shrugs, clearly unfazed as she makes her way to the table to wait for food. Charlotte pops some five-grain bread in the toaster and my tummy rumbles.

‘Stick a slice on for me, Charlie,’ Gavin says, appearing in the kitchen looking equally as dishevelled as Molly. ‘Christ it’s early, isn’t it? Couldn’t they have postponed the race until after lunch?’ Gavin mumbles.

---