Chapter Thirty-Two
It is late, but the hospital still seems packed, and Mel makes her way through a busy waiting area, then down the corridor, following the directions a friendly nurse gives her at the desk. She takes a breath and inhales that distinct bleach and medicinal smell.
She couldn’t see any of them out in the waiting room.
Presumably, that means they are all with Susan, and despite the fact that she wants to see them, despite her resolution earlier, still her stomach twists with nerves.
Will it only be Finn who is mad at her for not saying anything?
Or will Mark and Hattie hate her too? And Susan—Hattie said she’s okay, but what does “okay” actually mean in this scenario?
She finds Susan’s room number. The door is slightly ajar, and she peers in. She sees Susan lying on the white hospital bed, a drip in her arm. Hattie and Dylan are sitting next to her, Hattie holding her hand, Dylan’s hand on Hattie’s shoulder. No one else seems to be in there.
She pushes the door open gently. Susan looks over to her and smiles. It’s a tired smile, but a smile nonetheless.
“Mel. I’m so glad you came.” She looks so fragile, pale against the color of her hospital gown, and her gray-blond hair looks limp and a little greasy.
Hattie gets to her feet and immediately envelops Mel in a hug.
Her eyes are red, and she’s clearly been crying, but her arms are firm and strong around Mel.
Mel lets out a sob as she returns it, and the two of them cling to each other for a moment.
She takes a breath, inhaling the scent of Hattie’s shampoo. And something inside her settles.
“I’m so glad you came,” Hattie whispers against Mel’s shoulder, and although that only makes Mel want to cry more, she manages to control it, pulling back and nodding.
Dylan comes over to her too, gives her a quick, hard hug, before taking Hattie’s hand. Mel thinks about her theory that families either pull together or fall apart in times of crisis—it looks like, for them, it will be the former, doesn’t it?
“Mark and Kristen have checked into a hotel so Freya can sleep,” Hattie says, saving Mel from having to ask. She hesitates a beat, then adds, “Finn has just popped out to make a few calls.”
“Yes,” Susan says, her voice a little croaky but strong enough, “and now that Mel is here to sit at my bedside, will you two please go and get something to eat too? I can hear your stomachs rumbling and it’s ruining the peaceful vibe.”
Hattie lets out a sob-laugh. She bends down to kiss Susan’s forehead, then straightens. “If you’re okay with that, Mel?” she asks.
“Of course,” Mel says immediately.
Hattie bites her lip. “We’re waiting on test results from the doctors.”
“If they come back while I’m here, I’ll call you,” Mel promises.
It seems to be enough to convince Hattie, because she and Dylan head out into the corridor, leaving Mel alone with Susan.
Mel feels tears welling the moment she takes the seat beside the bed. “I’m so sorry, Susan.”
“Hey, now.” Susan reaches for her hand and Mel meets her halfway.
“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who should be apologizing.
” Her mouth is a thin line. “I shouldn’t have put you in a position where you had to lie.
I was just trying to protect them all, to put it off.
I was being selfish, and I’m so, so sorry. ”
“Don’t be. God, please don’t be. And selfish is one word no one would use to describe you.” She swipes the tears away, determined to keep it together. “I just want you to be okay.”
“Well, I might not be okay, but this isn’t the end—I’ve got time in me yet.
” She smiles again, and Mel does her best to return it.
How much time, she wonders? Does Susan know—has she been given the odds?
Susan sighs. “And I was a fool to think I could keep it from my children, to think I could stop more bad things happening to them. I screwed up, Mel.”
Mel shakes her head. “Susan, I don’t think there’s a right way to handle this kind of thing. I think they’ll come to understand that.”
“Not that. I mean, yes, that. But I mean, I think, in trying to protect my children, I’ve ended up teaching them all the wrong things.
Well, some of the wrong things, anyway. Lying here, after a scare like that, it gets you thinking.
I have always been so desperate not to show conflict in the house—but instead all they learned was to avoid that?
Not to have a conversation about things as things get tough.
” She’s not talking about her illness, now, but something else.
“I see it with Hattie, sometimes—though, thank God, Dylan pushes her into talking. And I see it with Finn.” Susan’s warm brown eyes find hers.
“I suppose I’m saying sorry that Finn learned how to be in a relationship from me. ”
“You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing,” Mel says firmly.
Susan shakes her head a little sadly. “Maybe all we can do is our best.”
“Absolutely. That’s absolutely all we can do.”
Susan gives her a very direct look. “I’ve told Finn he’d be a fool to let you go again.”
Mel bites her lip. “It was a lie, Susan. Me and Finn. This holiday. We were only pretending.”
Susan cocks her head, and the smile she gives Mel is knowing “Were you?”
Mel chats a bit to Susan, turning the conversation away from Finn, and when Susan’s eyelids start to droop, she goes quiet, allowing her to fall asleep. She sits there, still holding Susan’s hand, watching the rise and fall of her chest.
She’s okay . She repeats in her mind like a chant. And, yes, the future is uncertain, and there is still a lot they don’t know—but right now she’s okay, and that’s something to be thankful for. As for Finn…
I’ve told Finn he’d be a fool to let you go again.
But is that what Finn wants? Even if he can forgive her for keeping that secret? It seemed like maybe he didn’t want things to end before they went to the pub—but now, with everything going on, will he change his mind?
There’s a knock on the open door, and Mel looks over to see Finn there, leaning against it. He looks tired, his hair messy, stubble across his jaw. Her stomach flips at the sight of him, though she immediately averts her eyes. How long has he been standing there, watching?
She gets to her feet. “Sorry,” she whispers. She’s not totally sure why she’s apologizing but she does it anyway, letting go of Susan’s hand.
“The others are nearly back,” Finn whispers. He hesitates. “And we’re not supposed to be overcrowding her, according to the doctors.”
Well, Mel can take a hint. And, yes, she wants to be here for all of them, but maybe, for now, that’s about letting them know that she’s around when they need her. She certainly doesn’t want to force her presence on him. And maybe the doctors are right—Susan is clearly exhausted.
“All right.” She gets to her feet. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” She strokes a hand over Susan’s head, gently so as not to wake her, then heads to the door.
Finn stays exactly where he is. She’s almost past him when he grabs her wrist, pulls her a couple of meters down the corridor. He lets go of her, then shoves his hands in his pockets.
“Mel, look. I’m sorry I reacted like that.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. It’s just—it was a bit of a shock.”
“I know.” There is a beat of quiet, then, “How long did you know for?”
She bites her lip. “I found out on Christmas Eve.”
He rakes a hand through his hair, nods. “And she said she asked you and Kristen not to say anything?”
She nods. “I didn’t know what to do,” she whispers. “I wanted to tell you.”
He hesitates. “I know.”
“Do you know how bad…?”
“Well, it’s cancer, so not great.” He swallows. “Stage three.”
“Okay.” Mel blows out a breath. “Okay. So she’s…?”
“There’s definitely hope,” Finn says, his voice firm. Hope. Yes, thinks Mel. That’s right. “She’s got a long road ahead of her, but it’s all out in the open now, and we’re all going to be there for her.”
“Of course you will.”
There’s a pause, and Mel thinks she can hear Hattie’s voice, coming from somewhere along the corridor. Apparently finding food did not take all that long, or they just couldn’t bear to stay away.
“Mel, I know we need to talk, but—”
“It’s okay,” she says quickly, even as her heart does an awful drop into her stomach, wondering what he was going to say. “Now isn’t the time.”
He glances down to the end of the corridor, to where Hattie and Dylan are coming into view, then nods.
“Where are you all going to stay?” Mel asks. You . Not we.
“I think we’ll just crash here tonight, to be honest. If they let us. And you? Where will you go?”
She hesitates. “I’ll check into a hotel. There’s a Holiday Inn not far from here. I’ll see if they have a room, so I’ll be near if you…” Need me? Change your mind? She’s not sure what she’s trying to say.
“Okay. I think she’ll be allowed to go home tomorrow. They said her collapsing was more to do with stress than the…” His words seem to dry up for a moment. “The illness,” he finishes.
Mel nods. The stress of hiding it, panic over the fact that she had to tell them all—Mel can imagine it.
“Okay. That’s good I guess?”
“I guess. I don’t really know, to be honest.”
“Finn, you know if there’s anything I can do…”
“I know,” he murmurs. He hesitates, and Mel thinks he might say something else, then he gestures to Susan’s room. “I better…”
“Of course. Well, I’ll see you later.” It’s inadequate and she doesn’t really know what she means by it, but he nods.
“Okay. Bye, Mel.”
And as she walks away, leaving Finn to go and see his mum, she can only hope he doesn’t mean goodbye for good.