“Pamela’s hardly a lamb. And those of us who can fight should always defend those who can’t fight for themselves.”
“I wasn’t picking a fight, Jasmine. Or belittling Pamela. If she wants it, the job is still hers.” He stops. “Sit down, Jasmine. Please, sit.”
Jasmine pulls out the cheap metal and plastic stacking chair she had been using earlier. Ben obviously has something to say to her and it is unsettling enough to want her seated. Instead of rounding the desk and taking his place in his office chair, he perches on the desk. Jasmine’s brow furrows. It puts him closer to her, within reach, but looking down, an odd dynamic.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Now Jasmine is even more confused. “What for?”
Ben is silent a moment. “For not listening to you five years ago.”
Tears prickle her eyes. She takes a calming breath. “Let’s not go there?” She puts her fingers to the bridge of her nose and massages along her eyebrows. It’s been an emotional day so far. She doesn’t think she can take much more. What is wrong with a good old boring stiff upper lip?
“What’s done is done. It played out how it did. We were only kids, thinking we understood the world.” She laughs bitterly. “How little I knew then.”
“We were kids,” Ben says. “And I loved you like one, with my whole heart. I didn’t want to share you.”
“Don’t!” Jasmine blows out her breath, praying he stops. She neither wants nor needs an explanation. “It’s gone, past. We are neither of us innocent kids anymore.”
“But haven’t you ever thought of me in the intervening years?”
He’s really going to do this. He’s going to make her admit all her impossible dreams and foolish feelings and hopes. He’s going to leave her without one shred of pride to hide behind. She drops her head. “I didn’t love you any less, than you loved me. Of course I’ve thought of you.” She has only ever loved two people and one of those is dead. Every guy who asked her out, every date she ever accepted, not one was ever the slightest bit as good as Ben. And yet, the love she’d had for Ben had not been enough.
“And after Petey died, if I had contacted you, would you have given me a second chance?”
This is the moment. Her heart laid bare.
“Yes,” she whispers. Then she stands, confession over. Her voice strengthens. “But you’re with Lou now and we have an election to win. I have work to do.” As regally as Jasmine can manage, she straightens, drops her shoulders and walks out of his office.
The Last Slog
Jasmine is relieved to see Pamela the following day. She had not wanted to hassle her friend, so had left it to Pamela to call back when she was ready. But the evening had worn on and no message had come. Jasmine takes careful stock of the older woman but can see no obvious change.
“How are you doing?” she asks, staying away from the normal greeting of,How are you? –which could be deemed rather crass in the circumstances.
Pamela lifts her eyes to meet Jasmine’s. “Stunned, I think. A little worried Martin won’t still love me without…” One hand lifts and circles her breast.
“He took on a single mother with three boys. I doubt he’ll be phased by this,” Jasmine gently squeezes Pamela’s arm.
“I know. But you can’t help wondering if it will change things. He didn’t take the news well and the kids were even worse. To be honest, I’ve come to work to get away from all of them. They do fuss so.”
“I guess they’re all a bit shocked.” Jasmine certainly was.
“Bit silly of me, really. I wasn’t expecting it, despite the call back. Two of my friends had had call backs and in both cases it had turned out to be cysts. It just didn’t occur to me it would be cancer. I felt so well.”
“Not silly at all. Cysts are the most frequent outcome.” Jasmine pauses. “Did they give you a staging?” she asks calmly. The answer to this will tell her how much she needs to worry. Pamela has enough to deal with; she shouldn’t have to assuage others’ distress too.
“Stage one. Thank God for routine mammograms, heh?”
Jasmine nods. “Surgery?”
“Yes. They’ve given me a date for an operation. It’s after the election, mercifully.”
“You do know we would have managed without you?” She doesn’t want Pamela to think she must come in, even if she feels bad.
“But not half as well.”
Jasmine chuckles and agrees. “Quite.” Neither does she want Pamela to feel as if she is disposable. Besides, many a true word spoken in jest. Pamela is a powerhouse of organisation, not easily replaced.
