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‘Yes.’ I hurry through the double doors of the canteen, instantly relieved by the sudden silence on the corridor as I make my way towards the lifts.
‘Heather, it’s Jack. Jack Patterson.’
‘Doctor Patterson,’ I say, taken aback thathe’smy incessant caller. The lift doors open and the woman who gets in ahead of me holds the door, but my feet are frozen to the spot. I wave my hand and she lets the doors close. ‘What’s wrong? Are there more results back? Is it bad?’
‘Where are you?’ Jack asks.
‘Erm,’ I swallow, glancing over my shoulder at the door to the canteen. ‘I’m on my way up to the ward.’
‘Okay. Good. I’ll see you there in a few minutes.’
‘What’s wrong? You’re freaking me out, Jack.’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he says, in that soothing voice that I’ve come to learn precedes abutof some sort.
I bang the button on the wall, frantically calling back the lift.Bing!The doors part and I can barely contain myself to wait for the man inside to get out before I jump in.
‘Jack, just tell me,’ I say, pounding on the button for the third floor. The lift creaks and groans and obediently begins rising. ‘Jack?’ I say, but the line is dead.
I lower my phone and stare at the screen. I should have known I’d lose service in the lift. I count along with the digital display above the door. One… two… stop! Dammit. We’re stopping on the second floor.
‘Going down?’ a young women says as the doors part.
‘Up.’ I point, ready to push the button to close the doors again.
‘I wanna goooooo. I wanna goooooo,’ the toddler in her arms screeches.
She grabs another, older, child by the hand and I move over as they step into the lift. The doors creak and groan and seem to take forever to close and the toddler and older kid poke their tongues out at one another and scream and shout, obviously in the middle of a sibling war. Their mother tosses them a look that warns them they’re in big trouble as soon as I get out.
Bing!
‘How dare you, both,’ I hear her growl before the doors fully close behind me. ‘I’m sure that lady is shocked. I’m mortified by your behaviour.’
I take a deep breath and shake my head. I can remember scolding Kayla in the same way for similar silly behaviour when she was little. I remember when she was about two she had a meltdown in the sweets aisle in Tesco because I wouldn’t, and couldn’t afford to, buy a giant bar of Toblerone. I was embarrassed as strangers watched her kick herarms and legs and scream at the top of her voice. I remember how my face burned and my temper flared, and I thought being a mother was too hard, too intense. What I don’t remember is who the people staring at me were. I don’t remember if they were young or old. If it was a man or a woman or both. I just remember the sinking feeling ofI can’t do this.
The feeling grabs me again now as I stand in front of the security doors outside Kayla’s ward. My legs are shaking, and my palms are sweating. I want to hurry inside and hug Kayla tight. I want to apologise for not buying the Toblerone back then and buy her as much chocolate as she can possibly eat. But, I can’t seem to get my legs to move forward. Jack is waiting behind those doors and I know I don’t want to hear whatever he’s about to tell me.
‘You goin’ in, love?’ I jump as one of the nurses from the ward appears behind me.
I nod, a bit lost for words.
She places her hand on my shoulder. ‘You’re not the first parent to be overwhelmed by these doors.’
‘I just…’
‘Is it your son or daughter we’re looking after?’ she says as she swipes her security card through a box near the door and there’s a buzz and a click and the doors release.
‘My daughter. Kayla.’
‘Ah, Kayla,’ she says, as we step inside. ‘She’s a great kid. Although I think I might be in her bad books. I suggested changing her cannula this morning and she didn’t say anything but…’
‘If looks could kill,’ I say, thinking of Kayla’s angry stare. ‘Oh God, I didn’t mean,’ I add quickly, trying to back pedal, wishing I hadn’t said that.
‘Oh don’t worry,’ the nurse says. ‘I’ve heard worse.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I add.
‘Listen,’ she says, taking both my hands in hers and giving them a gentle squeeze. ‘You don’t have to watch every word out of your mouth. If you start doing that then you won’t be yourself and Kayla will pick up on it. Kids with cancer are just kids and they need their parents to be just parents. Try not to be so hard on yourself. You’re going through enough already.’
