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I’m about to make some quip about my puffed-up face and tufty hair.You should see me on a bad day.But the fact is, somehow he makes me feel beautiful.
‘How are you today?’ There’s concern in his eyes.
Most days, I wake up with a sense of fatigue. But after some of the weeks I’ve had, it’s definitely classed as a good day. I smile. ‘I’m OK.’
‘Great. I’ll make some tea.’ He springs out of bed and I watch him disappear towards the stairs.
Sounds drift upstairs, of him filling the kettle and switching it on, opening a cupboard for mugs as I lie there.More moments… When he comes back, I do the same, noting the set of his shoulders, his stubble, the way his eyes don’t leave me.
‘You’re watching me,’ I tease him.
Climbing into bed, he pulls me close. ‘I am. And I’ll tell you why. I’m making up for all the time I’ve wasted without you.’
That morning, it’s as though I know my grasp is slipping as I hold on to real life.
‘You’re sure you’re OK?’ Forrest asks for the hundredth time.
‘Stop worrying about me. Look. Can we talk about you? You need a plan, don’t you?’ And I need to think about something else.
‘I know this. I’m working on it.’ He hesitates. ‘The thing is, as you know only too well, I used to revel in the challenge of defending questionable people, and of the intricacies and theatre of the court room. Even office politics used to be mildly amusing. Obviously, I’m done with all that.’ He hesitates again. ‘But, I still find people interesting. Fuck knows, I’ve seen a real cross section. Seeing as I’m baring my soul for some reason…’ He spins it out. ‘OK, if you promise not to laugh, I’ll tell you what I really want to do.’ He looks at me, serious for a moment. ‘What I’d like to do, at least to start with, is to see more of this world. I want to involve myself with worthy causes – like Freya does. See where it takes me. Bit vague, I know.’ He shrugs.
This morning, my brain feels scrambled, his words seeming jumbled as I struggle to take them in. ‘Where do you want to go?’
‘Anywhere, really. Anywhere that’s different,’ he corrects himself.
‘It’s a brilliant idea.’ Aware of my speech slurring slightly, my heart skips a beat.It’s another step. I articulate each word, wondering if he’s noticed. ‘You should talk to Freya, maybe.’
‘I will. I suppose I want to find something I feel passionate about – and go from there. And don’t get me wrong.’ His eyes twinkle. ‘I want to have fun along the way, too. My vociferous inner rebel and party animal are very much alive and kicking. Too much of the intense stuff isn’t good for anyone. Balance is needed.’
‘Amen to that,’ I say feelingly.
He rolls onto his side, gazing at me. ‘Can I ask you something? Only you’ve never told me about your parents.’
Rolling onto my back, I stare at the ceiling. ‘In short, my father moved out when I was too small to remember him, and my mother was and is one of life’s victims. Nothing was ever her responsibility – including my wellbeing.’
‘Does she know you’re ill?’ he says quietly.
‘No – because nothing’s changed and it never will,’ I say quickly. ‘When it comes to my mother, I don’t want it to. Right now, nothing good would come of inviting her into my life.’
‘She might surprise you.’
I shake my head. ‘Rae said the same. But neither of you know her.’ Unless you’d been there, it’s impossible to understand that when she’s been absent most of my life, it’s way too late to rebuild our relationship. ‘I did try to talk to her once – a while back. But she effectively washed her hands of me.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He sounds sad. ‘I suppose some people will never change. It’s the same with my father. He’s never been interested in me. He simply saw me as an asset to the firm – and something to boast about. Aside from that…’ Forrest shrugs. ‘He’s like everyone who works there. They all have the same principles, about maximising income, ripping off clients, defending the indefensible…’ He sighs.
My heart goes out to him. It’s another of those weird synchronicities between us, another simple need that was denied to us, when as a child, all you want is to be loved.
30
RAE
After her decision not to have surgery, I notice a change in Marnie. It’s as if she’s gentler, less driven; as though the angst she’s been carrying has been defused.
When her next scan comes around, it’s Forrest who goes with her. When she comes over afterwards, I know instantly it isn’t good news.
Sitting on the sofa, for a moment she doesn’t speak. ‘It’s spreading.’ A single tear trickles down her cheek as she looks at me. ‘At least I know I made the right decision. There wouldn’t have been much point in having surgery.’
It’s as though the breath has been knocked out of me. Going over, I sit next to her. ‘So what happens now?’
