Nine
When she wasn’t immersed in work, Gill had spent time over the past two days thinking about her conversation with Rachel, the conclusion she had come to about her own behaviour, and her resolve to change. But it was easier to decide to change than to actually do it.
The previous evening, over a glass of wine, she made a list of things she needed to change, first of which was to take more care of herself. While her early morning swims provided her with much needed exercise, the rest of the day was spent sitting behind a desk, and she was aware her diet left a lot to be desired. While she enjoyed cooking, these days she only did it when it was her turn to provide lunch for her group of friends. She put an asterisk beside meals on her list.
The next area she could change was friends, which were few. There were the three she had lunch with who she’d met all those years ago when they were all struggling with a new baby, and… she thought for a moment, Olivia and the other members of the book club. She saw Olivia at the beach every morning, and they occasionally bumped into each other in town, but she always avoided making any arrangement to meet her – or anyone else – socially. Reflecting on her life since Max left, Gill concluded that she had become almost completely isolated, preferring her own company and hiding her emotions behind an impenetrable expression. She’d become a very private person, unable or unwilling to show her feelings.
Except with Rachel, she thought, but that had been different, related to work, and Rachel was a friend, one of her few friends.
Over coffee, instead of checking the news on her iPad, Gill re-read what she had written. Top of her list was her health, and the small bump which had appeared on the underside of her tongue.
Before applying her makeup, Gill peered into the magnifying mirror. The little bump was still there. It appeared to be the same as it had last time she looked, and the time before. Was it a good sign it hadn’t grown? She remembered the google search she’d done before going to bed, and the horrific story of a woman who’d left what she thought was an ulcer on her tongue untreated, only to be diagnosed with stage four tongue cancer. She peered at her tongue again. It couldn’t be cancer, could it? Her stomach shrivelled. Maybe she should get it checked out, just in case. A rush of fear prompted her to pick up the phone and call the medical centre.
*
Gill’s mouth was dry, and her legs were shaking as she sat in the waiting room. She was sure it was nothing, but she couldn’t dismiss the article she’d read, the article which had kept her awake most of the night worrying. She’d been glad to get an appointment so quickly and to have a free slot in her diary.
‘Gill? I don’t often see you here. Everything all right?’
Gill looked up to see her friend, Liz. How could she have forgotten Liz worked here as practice manager? ‘Just a routine checkup,’ she lied, hoping her eyes didn’t give her away.
‘Time for a coffee after?’ Liz smiled.
‘Probably not. Maybe another time?’
‘Sure. Give me a call.’
Gill nodded. She and Gill had a lot in common. They were the two divorcees in their lunch group, both Rachel and Poppy being widows. But their commonality had ended when Liz formed a relationship with the local newspaper editor. Gill couldn’t understand how Liz had managed to trust another man after what she’d been through.
‘Gill?’ Mary Bolton, Gill’s GP, popped her head into the waiting room, relieving Gill of any further conversation.
Once inside the doctor’s office, Gill explained why she was there. As she opened her mouth so the bump could be examined, she was hoping to be told she was worrying unnecessarily. She was already regretting having made the appointment when she could have been at work, and the doctor could have been dealing with more deserving patients.
‘Hmm,’ Mary said, stepping away from Gill. ‘I think we need to have a biopsy. I’ll refer you to an oral pathologist.’
Gill’s heart dropped. She barely heard Mary describe the process and tell her to make another appointment after the follow up with the pathologist, leaving the office with Mary’s final words, ‘Don’t lose any sleep over it,’ ringing in her ears.
She was glad there was no sign of Liz while she paid and walked through the door and out into the street. Her senses were reeling. Cancer. What if it was cancer? What if she died? Who would miss her? Not Max, that was for sure. Freya? Would she even care? The wild swimming group, her clients, the group she met for lunch on a monthly basis? They’d notice her absence for a time, then for them life would go on; it would be as if she’d never existed. She had isolated herself so completely, no one would care. For the first time, Gill acknowledged she was lonely.
Gill’s eyes blurred with tears. She didn’t see where she was going, till she bumped into someone. She looked up into a pair of concerned brown eyes, and felt a wet nose push into her hand.
*
Erica seemed to be feeling better this morning. Over breakfast, she’d announced her intention to spend the day refamiliarising herself with Pelican Crossing, revisiting her old haunts and maybe even checking out the hospital for nursing vacancies. Although it was years since she’d done any nursing, it seemed she’d retained her registration in the hope one day Geoff might relent and allow her to work again.
As a result, and to the delight of his staff, Joe had taken Coco to the office again. After a contentious meeting with the planning department, he’d felt the need for fresh air, and was walking along the street with Coco when they were almost bowled over by the tall, dark-haired woman.
‘Woah!’ he said, letting go of Coco’s leash and putting out both hands to grasp the woman by the shoulders – he knew the dog wouldn’t run off. ‘Almost knocked you down. Steady, Coco,’ he said to his dog, who seemed eager to make friends.
‘Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.’ The woman raised her head to meet his eyes. Hers were red, as if she’d been crying.
Joe recognised her. She was a partner in the large law practice in town, the one who specialised in divorce and family law. He’d heard good things about her but couldn’t recall her name. They’d never met. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. She clearly wasn’t, but he was a stranger to her, even though she probably knew who he was. Everyone knew the mayor.
She looked so lost, so bereft, without thinking he said, ‘You look as if you could do with something to pick you up. I was about to have a coffee. Join me?’
The woman’s eyes widened, and he thought she was about to refuse. Then she said, ‘Thanks. It’s kind of you, but…’ She gestured to where Coco was patiently waiting.
‘ Books and Coffee is just along the way. We can sit outside, and they’ll provide a bowl of water for Coco.’
‘Coco, what a nice name.’ Her voice was low and melodious, but flat. She sounded defeated. Joe wondered what had happened to make her so distressed.
She didn’t say any more till they were seated at one of the tables outside the café, her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. ‘Whatever must you think of me?’ she said, holding out a hand. ‘Gill Dickson. I’m sorry. I just received some bad news and wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘Joe Harris.’ Joe took her outstretched hand.
‘I know who you are,’ she said with the hint of a smile, making Joe realise with a shock what an attractive woman she was. He couldn’t remember when he’d last taken enough notice of a woman to find her attractive.
He wondered what the bad news she’d received was, suddenly transported back to the day of Barb’s diagnosis of ovarian cancer. Best not to ask, he decided. He didn’t know why, but he had the impression Gill Dickson was someone who didn’t want to disclose too much about herself. He tried to remember what he’d heard about her. She’d made partner early in her career, belonged to a number of local organisations known for their good works. He thought there was a daughter, and hadn’t she been married to a schoolteacher? She was probably divorced.
All of this passed through his mind as the woman sitting opposite sipped her coffee in silence.
‘What a friendly dog.’ Her words came as a surprise.
Joe looked down to see that Coco’s head was now in Gill’s lap and she was stroking it. True to form, Coco had sensed the woman’s distress and was doing her best to comfort her.
‘She has her moments,’ he said, unsure what else to say, aware of the anxious vibes Gill was giving off, as if she had no intention of revealing anything about herself. Well, that suited him. He had enough on his plate with Erica’s problems. But he had to admit to being curious as to what had caused Gill to be so upset, and why she’d agreed so readily to have coffee with him. Perhaps she was regretting it already?
As if reading his mind, Gill drained her cup and gently pushed Coco’s head from her lap. ‘I need to go now. Thanks for the coffee, for your sympathy. but I’m fine now. I’m sorry to have troubled you.’ She rose.
‘It was no…’ Joe began, but before he could finish his sentence, she was off, walking smartly along the street, no longer the vulnerable woman he’d rescued outside the medical centre, but an elegant career woman intent on putting as much distance between them as she could, as quickly as possible.
‘What was that about, Coco?’ Joe asked the dog who seemed as bewildered as he was at the sudden change in her. But, as usual, Coco had no reply.