Chapter One #2
I shake my head, annoyed at myself for thinking such a thing when Danny is lying in a hospital bed on an AIDS ward waiting for a doctor to confirm the worst. That this nasty bout of pneumonia he’s enduring means that the virus has turned into AIDS.
AIDS.
Never has a four-letter word, or rather, abbreviation, held so much weight. So much fear. So much pain.
So much loss.
A tear slips out of my eye. I would never have said Danny and I had been living in a bubble.
We read the newspapers and watch the news together.
We have known about AIDS for years. We have felt the loss – Danny’s friends, a few people at work, and then there are the many friends of friends, acquaintances of colleagues, associates of associates – but I didn’t think it would get to Danny.
He’s been so careful. For years. Condoms and conversations, he told me. That was how he protected himself. But of course, he could have got it before. He could have got it years ago and now…
Now it’s too late.
“Oi, you,” Danny croaks, pulling my head up from my hands. Hands that are now covered in tears. “We had a deal.”
“I’m not crying.”
“Liar.”
“They’re happy tears. We agreed happy tears were allowed.”
“Those are not happy tears, Sharon Goldblatt.”
I sniff and sit up straighter. “Since when were you an expert on tears?” I accuse, forcing playfulness into my tone, and I feel almost breathless with the exertion of the effort that requires.
“Ah, I know what happened,” he says, before closing his eyes and coughing. I wait for him to stop with a held breath. “The vending machine didn’t have any Wotsits.”
I smile despite myself, despite this hospital room, despite how grey and sallow Danny’s skin looks. “Actually, no, but the vending machine still ended up being quite an ordeal.”
His eyes open and I can see a spark of interest there. I cling to it with all my might.
“There was this woman, this nurse…” I lower my voice a little. There’s enough background noise coming from the other patients on the ward that I doubt anybody else can hear but still, I want to be careful. “She was so… obnoxious.”
He frowns at me. “In what way?”
I open my mouth to explain but find I’m lacking the exact answer. “Just very… smug. The vending machine swallowed my money but didn’t give me what I ordered. So she showed me how to get them to drop down.”
“So, she helped you?” He arches an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I would describe that as being obnoxious.”
“It’s not about what she did, it’s how she did it,” I point out.
“But you did get your Wotsits?”
“Yes, but,” I reach over to the table by his bed and throw both my crisps and his Marathon bar onto the sheets next to him.
“I would have figured it out myself.” I sit back and fold my arms over my chest. “I could just tell she wanted to show off how she knew. You know the kind of person I mean, all bossy and know-it-all.”
I wait for Danny’s nod of agreement but a harsh whirring sound turns my head in the opposite direction.
The curtain at the foot of his bed has been pulled completely open and she’s standing there. The nurse. Florence Fucking Nightingale.
“Well, hello again.” She levels me with her cold stare.
I feel myself shrink in my seat and immediately turn my gaze away but when I look at Danny, there’s no relief for my shock and dismay. He’s grinning wickedly at me, as quick as ever to connect the dots. Maybe he is feeling better.
“Daniel Morgan?” She lifts the chart hanging from the end of Danny’s bed.
“Yes, but I prefer Danny.”
“I’m Kate Chiu, the ward’s charge nurse, or ward manager, if you prefer. I’m your bossy, know-it-all nurse for today.”
I feel her eyes on me but I keep mine downcast.
“Nice to meet you,” Danny says in such a sickly-sweet tone I decide I’m going to eat his Marathon bar.
“And you are?” The nurse’s voice is a little louder.
Fuck. She’s talking to me.
I pull in a quick breath, meet her eyes for a split second and then mumble out my reply. “Sharon Goldblatt. Danny’s best friend and flatmate.”
“How lovely,” she says in a way that suggests she thinks it’s anything but. “I hope those crisps and the chocolate bar weren’t for the patient.”
I look up at her, my eyes wide, but her attention is fixed on the clipboard as she writes something down on Danny’s chart.
“So what if they are?” I challenge her.
“A lot of salt in the crisps. And a lot of sugar in the Marathon. And not many nutrients. We will be bringing around fresh fruit in an hour or so.”
“He’s been eating healthily for six months,” I practically splutter as I lean forward toward this self-satisfied Kate Chiu. “And look where that’s got him. I don’t think one chocolate bar is going to do any harm.”
Kate looks up and meets my eyes. I dare myself to hold her gaze. Or rather, her glare. I feel an irrational amount of glee when she looks away first.
“The doctor starts her rounds in two hours so she will see you sometime after that.”
“But visiting hours finish,” I look at my watch, “in forty-five minutes.”
Kate turns her head slowly from Danny to me. “That is correct.”
“I want to be there, when the doctor comes.”
“Well, that’s not possible,” she tells me and I swear her mouth twitches, like she’s fighting the urge to smile.
“I have questions,” I say, but already I feel it’s pointless.
“Then write them down and I will ask the doctor.” She steps to the opposite side of Danny’s bed. “I’m going to take some vitals now. That okay, Danny?”
I blink in shock. Her voice is so calm and polite talking to him. But when she speaks to me, it’s like an ice cube being rubbed up and down my spine.
“That’s fine,” Danny says and when I glance at him, he gives me a look I can’t read.
“Do you want me to stay?” I stand up as I watch Kate move to take his pulse. When she holds up his hand and cradles it while placing two fingers from her other on his pulse point, I stare at the contact.
She’s touching him. Really touching him. And she looks relaxed about it too, as she stares down at the upside-down watch pinned to her breast pocket.
I don’t know what I expected the nurses to do here but I read the stories about patients being locked away when the virus was still a frightening unknown quantity.
I saw the photos of them dressed up in hazmat-style suits.
So to see her touching him with her bare skin, holding his hand delicately…
I can’t take my eyes off it as relief washes over me.
“I will be fine, Shaz,” Danny says and his expression is very legible then. He’s telling me not to worry.
“He’s in very good hands.” I feel Kate’s eyes on me again. The hair on the back of my neck stands up when she adds, “Shaz.”
“I will write that list,” I say through my scowl, “of questions.”
I’m rummaging in my bag to find a piece of paper and a pen, but something interrupts my peripheral vision.
It’s a small notebook, and a blue biro, both held in Kate’s hand, which I can’t help but notice is small and slim while her fingers are long and elegant-looking. It’s the prettiest little hand I’ve ever seen and I can’t take my eyes off it, even when I hear her bossy voice from above my head.
“Here you go,” she’s saying. “You can leave it on the bedside table when you’re finished.”
I look up and meet her eyes again. This time, I don’t feel cold. I feel heat. Like a candle being held a little too close to my face.
Slowly I move my hand to take the notebook and pen. Just as my fingers are about to make contact, she pulls her hand and the notebook back slightly out of reach.
“Pardon?” She raises both of her eyebrows.
I stare at her. I wish she would just disappear. No, I wish I could disappear, evaporate, vanish. But then who would Danny have?
“Thank. You,” I say with pursed lips.
She releases the notebook and pen into my grip and I curse myself for finding her skin soft and warm when my fingertips brush it.
“You’re welcome.” Her smile lasts exactly two seconds and then she turns back to Danny with a very different expression, one that tells me that that brief smile she just gave me was one very fake, very inauthentic smile.
I tut and look away again, but relief rises inside me again because if anyone deserves real smiles and warm eyes, it’s Danny.