Page 49 of The Seaside Supper Club

‘Ring us as soon as you can, yeah? Let us know how it goes,’ added Sophie, concern creasing her brow.

‘Or get Cath to, if you’re not feeling up to it,’ added Maddie.

‘I will, of course,’ stepped in Cath.

‘And we’ll come down and see you later, of course,’ said Maddie.

‘Love you, Daddy.’ Sophie gave him the biggest hug, reverting to her childhood term.

‘Love you, Dad,’ followed Maddie, keeping it simple.

*

The journey had thankfully been a straightforward one. They’d given themselves plenty of time, as Cath was aware that parking could be an issue, even at this early hour. But five floors up in the hospital multi-storey she finally spotted a space.

Finding the ward was another small challenge. The Royal Victoria Infirmary was such a big hospital. But they tracked it down and were buzzed in, Will announcing himself at the nurse’s reception desk. Ushered to a bed bay on a four-bed ward, with clinical aromas abundant, a nurse, who introduced herself as Annie, ran through the procedure again. She then gave Will the medical consent form to sign with the many side-effects listed. A stark reminder of what might lie ahead.

Will was then asked to prepare himself for surgery. After a trip to the loo, he put on his gown – one of the gorgeous NHS ones, white with a geometric pattern, and the gappy strings at the back. And to Cath he suddenly seemed so vulnerable there, even though he was smiling, if a little tautly.

He gave Cath his phone and watch for safekeeping, and left his overnight things in his bedside locker. The nurse had returned asking about next of kin, and Cath froze for a moment waiting to hear Will’s answer. Where the hell did she slot into all this? His girlfriend – she hated that word – hardly covered it. Yet, if they thought she wasn’t closely involved with Will, they might not allow her to be at this bedside at all; how crazy.

‘Umm, there’s my two daughters, Maddie and Sophie,’ he started, ‘and of course, Cath here …’ He stalled for a second, before adding, ‘She’s my partner.’

And how did that fit in the scheme of things NHS-wise nowadays? They weren’t married, hadn’t even been together as a couple that long, Cath feared.

It seemed to work, however. Not everyone was married, after all. Annie took down all three telephone contacts, and confirmed, with Will’s agreement, that the ward staff would ring Cath as soon as he came around in recovery after surgery.

Then the porter rolled a trolley bed in, the nurse announcing it was time to go to theatre. Will seemed pretty chipper, keen to get on with it, his chin up and ready to go. And after a kiss on the cheek, a hand clasp that meant so much, and a cheery ‘best of luck’ from Cath, onto the trolley he clambered and off he was wheeled. The porter talked away with him; no doubt trained in easy-going diversionary chat. His hand appeared from the side of the trolley, giving a small wave; the cannula evident there. Cath felt a huge lump in her throat. ‘Bye for now, my love,’ she whispered, more to herself than him. Take care.

She took a long, slow breath and felt her eyes misting. He’ll be okay, she told herself. A few minutes later, she was still sitting quietly on the ward he’d been taken from, on a plastic chair beside his empty bed, feeling a little dazed. Nurse Annie popped her head around the part-drawn bay curtain. ‘You okay, my love? Can I get you anything? A cup of tea perhaps?’

‘Ahm, no thanks, but thank you for asking.’

After a few quiet moments, Cath switched to feeling restless. Time was going so slowly. It might yet be ages before Will even went into surgery. The operation was a delicate one, and could take around two hours, they’d been advised, and in more complex cases sometimes up to five.

Will had suggested, before he’d been taken to theatre, that she went off shopping in the nearby city centre to fill the time. How the hell could she wander around John Lewis and Next looking at bloody clothes and shoes? She then remembered there was a park nearby on the Town Moor and decided to head out of the hospital and go for a walk.

She found the entrance to Exhibition Park, and headed in beneath its Victorian-style metal-arch sign. Discovering the lake and the old white-domed brewery building, she walked on past a traditional bandstand, and then spotted several young children running about and playing in the park. This made her think back to when Adam was little, and to reflect on when Sophie and Maddie would have been youngsters, too. Those original family units now smashed to smithereens. Who’d have guessed the diverse paths they were all to go on. It was a good job you didn’t know what was going to happen in life, she mused. But she wouldn’t let herself get morose. There was always good in this world, too. It was so nice to hear the children’s laughter here.

Now that the girls had been made aware, Will had wanted her to advise their supper club friends of his surgery, and the reasons behind it. They were going to find out soon enough, anyhow. Nothing stayed secret in Tilldale for long. It’d be pretty obvious something major had happened once he was back in the village and recuperating.

Cath had been walking for a while and it had been a good distraction. Feeling suddenly weary, the emotions of the day no doubt taking their toll, Cath found a park bench to rest a while. Now seemed like a good time to make that contact with their friends. Taking out her mobile phone, she decided a group message seemed the fairest way of letting them know, all at the same time. She decided short, sweet and to the point was the best way forward, and then pressed send.

Within seconds her phone began buzzing in her palm. ‘Hello.’

‘Oh, petal, how are you?’ Andreas’s warm and caring voice came down the line.

‘Oh, Andreas. I’m okay, I think. Just playing the waiting game, whilst he’s in surgery. I’m sat in the park.’

‘What a shock for you both. That was the last thing I expected to read … We’re still reeling, so goodness knows how you’re feeling. We’re on speakerphone, by the way, Dan’s here, too.’

‘Hi, lovely. Sending a great big hug,’ Dan came in.

‘Thank you.’

‘So, what’s happening today?’ queried Andreas. ‘Surgery obviously, and then …?’

‘He’ll stay in overnight, for sure, for monitoring. And depending on how he seems to be recovering, he should be allowed home later tomorrow. He’ll need a few weeks off work. He’ll have to take things steady for a while.’