Page 31 of The Seaside Supper Club

‘Oh.’ She’d heard of that test. Cath felt a cold prickly feeling ripple through her like a shudder.

‘Cath, they’re referring me to the hospital, for an MRI scan … the result came back as “raised”. There’s a chance it might be cancer … prostate cancer.’ His words came out in a rush now. He sounded like he could hardly believe it.

She could hardly believe it. She’d been putting his fatigue down to some virus. ‘Bloody hell. Oh, Will, my love.’ Fuck.

She wanted to hold him, to be with him. But he was on the other end of a phone. Okay, so this wasn’t a diagnosis; she tried to reassure herself. This wasn’t real, not yet. A PSA test, how accurate were they? It was an indicator. Her brain was scrambling, trying to make sense of this. She finally found more words. ‘When do you go … to the hospital?’

‘I’m not sure. I’ve been referred … Waiting for an appointment to come through. Actually, I think something was mentioned of around two weeks …’

‘Oh, okay.’ Crikey, she didn’t want to sound negative, like this was already real. ‘Shall I come round? Do you want some company? Where are you now?’

‘I’m at the cycle shop. The test results have just come in. The surgery rang me … just before.’ He sounded dazed.

‘Are you all right?’ Stupid question, she knew, but what the hell else did you say?

‘I don’t know. I really don’t know. Depends what happens next, I suppose. I think I’m better keeping busy here for now. I’ve got a few services to be getting on with. That’ll keep me occupied.’

‘Well, it’s just at the investigation stage, hopefully it’ll all be fine.’ She tried to be positive, but as she said the words, unease spread thickly in her stomach. ‘Ahm, do you want to come round to mine after work? I’ll get us some supper …’

Would either of them even feel like eating with this news on the table? But she didn’t know what else to say, or do? This was a whole new experience. One she wished she wasn’t bloody facing. Not Will … how could it be Will? After everything he and the girls had already been through … shit, that seemed too unfair.

‘Yeah, I’ll come round once I finish here … Thanks.’ His tone sounded dull.

She didn’t want to end the call and leave him on his own with this news – okay, so it wasn’t news yet. It was about more tests. That’s how they needed to think about it.

‘Okay, see you later. Take care, my love,’ said Cath.

And they closed the call like any other. But that was so not like any call she’d ever received. And her heart didn’t know what to make of it.

*

Shock made her feel strangely numb, as she put down the phone. No point panicking … and yet, what if it was cancer? What if Will, her darling gorgeous Will, had cancer?

Oh, and, if she was scared – and yes, the initial numbness was swiftly shifting into fear – then what the hell must Will be feeling? He’d lost his wife to that terrible disease only two years ago … he’d seen first-hand what it could do, and he and his girls had had to go through that horrendous journey with Jane.

Cath went from feeling numb to sick.

*

She’d felt restless ever since Will’s call. It was now after four-thirty, she’d already taken one tuition lesson, somewhat distractedly if she were honest, with another due shortly. She knew that Will closed the cycle shop around 5 p.m., so he’d be due soon, though he might decide to call at his own home first. After such difficult news, she really didn’t want to be mid-lesson when he arrived, but equally, she couldn’t let her student down who was about to take her GCSE maths, either.

Cath wrote a little note for him, and left it on the kitchen table next to an empty mug, a teaspoon and the cafetière which she’d already scooped some ground coffee into, along with a tea plate with a couple of choc-chip shortbread biscuits on. Simple things, small acts of love. Then she sent a brief text message to his phone, saying ‘see you soon’ and giving the time her lesson finished. She didn’t want to put him off, but also didn’t want him to arrive, perhaps ready to unload emotionally – though that might be unlikely knowing dark-horse Will, who’d kept his feelings close to his chest ever since she’d met him – to discover an empty room.

It was in the last ten minutes of her tuition session, from the upstairs study, when she heard the front door open and close. He was here. Her heart felt a strange pang. She managed to hold the end of the lesson together, whilst fighting the urge to run downstairs and scoop Will up in her arms. Oh, what must he be feeling?

‘Okay, well, thanks very much, Caitlin. Keep practising those algebraic equations. And remember, on the exam day, keep calm, read the paper over first before you launch in, and breathe. It’ll all be there in your mind if you give yourself a second or two to find it. And your GCSE will go off fine. Give it your best shot. Best of luck, lovely!’

‘Thank you, and you’ve been great.’ The auburn-haired girl on the screen broke into a smile. She’d been one of Cath’s quieter students this year, far less chatty through the lessons than most. ‘I’m still bricking myself about the exam,’ she continued. ‘But this extra time to go over things has been so helpful.’

‘Ah, you’re very welcome. It’s been a pleasure.’

And didn’t that ‘thank you’ feel good. Cath hoped the young woman would do well – she’d certainly had the right attitude with her studies – and that she’d now be able to move positively into her further studies, and her post-school aspirations, with a decent grade in her GCSE maths exam helping her along her way. A sound maths result was key to so much. This was what being a teacher was all about; giving these young people the tools to achieve their dreams, building their confidence and a good work ethic. Giving them building blocks for their future.

Cath finished their farewells, shut down her laptop and then rushed downstairs. She guessed Will would be in the kitchen; the scent of coffee already drifting through.

‘Hi,’ she called out from the hallway, trying to sound as normal as possible.

On hearing her voice, he’d stood up from his place at the kitchen table. A look of fear, that he was unable to disguise, shadowed his face. ‘Hi …’