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He glances at his wristwatch. ‘Goodness, is that the time? I have to go.’ Without saying goodbye, he walks out, standing on the pavement for a moment as he looks up and down the street, leaving the door wide open behind him.
Sometime later, a woman comes in. As she comes over to the desk, I take in her fair hair tied in a ponytail, a loose-fitting t-shirt over denim shorts.
‘Hi. I’m Freya Lane. I think you have a book for me.’
‘Just a moment.’ I flick through the order list, finding her name against another title about cancer. ‘I’m so sorry. It hasn’t come in yet.’
‘Oh.’ Her face looks stricken. ‘Not to worry.’ Her eyes settle on the book I ordered for myself. ‘I’ve heard about this one. Is there any chance I could take that instead?’
I hesitate, taking in her unmistakable look of sorrow, the dark circles under her eyes, getting the feeling she needs it more than I do. ‘Of course you can.’ Picking it up, I place it in one of our bags while she pays.
‘Thank you.’ Her eyes are full of gratitude. ‘I really appreciate this.’ She pauses. ‘My sister’s ill.’
I’d already guessed there was probably someone. My heart goes out to her. ‘I’m so sorry. I have an idea what that’s like. I have a friend who’s sick, too.’
Our eyes meet in one of those moments of understanding. ‘It’s tough, isn’t it?’ she says quietly. ‘But not half as tough as it is for them.’
‘I know.’ I shake my head. ‘It’s made me think about the value of so many things.’
Her eyes fill with tears. ‘Me too.’
On Marnie’s good days, she packs them with life. ‘I want to go for walks and eat good food, talk and laugh. Plus there’s a whole list of chick flicks we’ve barely started on.’
Sassy she may be, but Marnie loves a cheesy movie as much as I do. ‘Don’t forget the popcorn and Prosecco,’ I tell her.
‘And pizza,’ she says promptly, getting up. ‘Come on. Let’s go for a walk.’
‘You mean now?’
‘Yes. Now.’ She sounds impatient. ‘Where’s Birdy? She should join us.’
Five minutes later, after Birdy comes back, the three of us set out for the folly. Under the sun’s glare, the air is heavy with heat, the trees casting shadows, and with Birdy and I on either side of her, Marnie links her arms through ours.
As we walk, Marnie’s silent, taking in the landscape, now and then smiling at each of us as it comes to me what she’s doing. She’s soaking this up, storing up memories to keep for later. Near the folly, we pass other people walking their dogs, or families with their picnics, children playing, their faces flushed with happiness, affirming what I’ve been thinking, that the simplest things are the most joyous, and that afternoon, we have all of them. A sky of deepest blue; the faintest, most welcome of breezes softly rustling the leaves, even the sun-bleached shades of summer – but most of all, the bond between us.
25
MARNIE
The blistering summer heat starts to recede as I wait for my energy to begin to come back. But with the treatment behind me, instead of growing stronger, it’s getting harder to try to hide the pain I’m in.
Reluctantly I make an appointment for a check-up, trying to stay upbeat, but it’s impossible to hide how terrified I am.
‘I’ve read about this,’ I say to Forrest. ‘Only a small percentage make it to a year. Many of them don’t. What if it turns out I’m one of them?’
I can see from his eyes that he’s scared, too. ‘It may just be a blip. Or you’re still recovering from the treatment.’ But he’s read the same figures I have. He knows what the odds are. ‘It’s the best thing you can do, going to see someone.’
‘You think?’ My eyes are wide with fear. ‘If they tell me I have weeks… How do I do that?’
‘Let’s wait and see what they say,’ he tries to reassure me.
I’m all too aware of how difficult this is for Forrest; that without me, he’s alone. It’s hard for Rae, too. But when she offers to go with me, I take her up on it. As we leave my house,she tries to buoy me up. ‘You’ll feel better once this is out of the way.’
But after being awake most of the night, my thoughts are all over the place. ‘I’m scared, Rae. Of what they’ll say. Of what comes next.’
‘I know.’ She grasps my hand.
As the train speeds towards Brighton, I dimly register the dry landscape that’s crying out for rain, the roads covered in a fine layer of dust. Beside me, Rae’s quiet, gazing out of the window. Neither of us speaks. But given the magnitude of what lies ahead, it’s crass to imagine we can think of anything else.
