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Taking my arm, he leads me away from the broken glass before putting his arms around me again. ‘Hey,’ he whispers. ‘It’ll be OK.’
‘It won’t,’I sob. ‘It’s shit, Forrest… These bastard tumours…’ Having tried to hold it together, it’s impossible to stop myself.
My body’s shaking as he holds me against him, my emotions a storm erupting from me. When eventually I look up, his cheeks are wet with tears.
‘I’ve been thinking.’ He wipes his face. ‘There has to be something we can do. Advances are being made all the time. Has your consultant considered clinical trials?’
‘They’re looking into them.’ I gaze past him, trying to think how to explain what I can’t work out; that however much I want to live, whether the debilitating side-effects of treatment are worth the small amount of additional time they’ll give me.
‘They have to look harder,’ he says fiercely. ‘I’ll look.’
‘Forrest.’ My vision blurs as I gaze at him. ‘It’ll only buy me a handful of days or weeks – that’s if there is anything I’m suited to…’
‘We can’t give up.’Moving closer, he puts his arms around me again.
But this isn’t giving up. It about accepting this bleakest of realities I face.
‘Just remember, whatever happens,’ he whispers. ‘You’re not going to be alone – with any of this.’ His face is ashen, his eyes not leaving mine. ‘We can get you a second opinion. Private treatment, even.’
I’m touched, but he doesn’t understand. ‘My consultant is one of the best,’ I say sadly. ‘Honestly, I’m in such good hands.’
But he refuses to give up. ‘Maybe there’s ground-breaking treatment in the US or something. You hear about these things.’ He’s silent. ‘I’m going to check it out.’
A tentative feeling of relief comes over me that I’m not alone; that he means every word. Wiping my face, I manage a glimmer of a smile.
‘You’re sure you don’t have arsehole lawyer stuff to be getting on with?’
Forrest shakes his head. ‘I think arsehole lawyer has done a runner.’
I look at him. ‘I really was not expecting this today.’
His arms go around me again, his head leaning against mine. ‘Whatever happens, and I mean whatever… you need to know I’m here for you,’ he whispers fiercely, before adding, ‘Don’t you dare try and stop me.’
That night, while Forrest sleeps, my mind is unable to still. Listening to the rhythm of his breathing, I gaze at the ceiling. It’s unbelievable that in so little time, in so many ways, my life has been turned upside down.
As the sun rises, I lie on my side watching Forrest sleep, glad that at least for a few hours, he isn’t worrying about me.
A while later, I’m still watching as he yawns, then turns to look at me.
‘Hello.’ Still sleepy, his eyes are shining with love.
‘Hello.’ I smile back at him.
Picking up his phone, he yawns as he glances at the time. ‘Do you have any idea how early it is?’
‘I know. It’s five thirty in the morning. I couldn’t sleep,’ I tell him.
Stifling another yawn, he gets out of bed. Still naked, he walks over to the window and pulls the curtains back.
‘You can’t do that!’ I tell him. ‘The neighbours will see you!’
‘The neighbours are doing what most normal people do at this time of the day – or maybe I should say night?’ Stretching his arms up, he pretends to think. ‘They’re fast asleep in theirbeds.’ He turns to look at me. ‘It’s a beautiful morning. How do you fancy going flying?’
As we drive towards the airfield, the sun is low, dazzling us through the trees as in a glimpse of blazing normality Forrest waxes lyrically about the old biplane he’s only mentioned in passing before.
But after bumping down the track towards the airfield, he pulls up in front of the gate and I see the biplane. I have to agree, there’s something about it. Standing nose high, the tail rests on a tiny tailwheel, all of it dwarfed by its two fabric-covered wings arranged in parallel.
Going through the gate, we walk through the long grasses, crossing the neatly mown strip that serves as a runway before reaching the hangar. Up close, the biplane has a delicacy about it. To my inexperienced eye, it also looks worryingly flimsy. I lay my hand gently on the fuselage. ‘It’s very pretty.’ I turn to look at him. ‘Are we really doing this?’
