Chapter Twenty-Four
Sharon
Let’s Hear It For The Boy by Deniece Williams
Seven years I worked at that company. Seven years of ten- or eleven-hour days.
Seven years of making a river of tea for my boss, organising birthday, anniversary, bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah gifts for his nearest and dearest and typing up hours and hours of meeting minutes.
Seven years of proofreading his correspondence.
Seven years of preparing his presentations and his public speeches.
Seven years of guarding his diary like a dragon.
And seven years of getting little to no recognition for any of it.
Seven years and they got me a fifty quid voucher for Boots. Like I’m somebody who even knows how to spend fifty pounds in Boots. Do they really think hair gel is that expensive, or that I like to buy a year’s supply in one go?
But regardless of the anti-climax that was my last day, Friday was still my last day.
Now I am free.
Free to look after Danny around the clock.
Except Danny is not at home for me to look after. He’s still in hospital, two weeks since he was admitted, and there’s no indication he’ll be coming home soon.
Or ever.
Not that anybody’s said that. None of his doctors. None of the nurses. Not even Kate. Nobody has said that Danny is going to die in this hospital, other than Danny himself, and I know how determined he is to avoid it.
“You’ll have to smuggle me out,” he croaks as I try to focus on the Sunday Times crossword.
“I’m not smuggling you anywhere. You can’t even sit up straight,” I tell his hunched-over form. He’s not always like this – so physically exhausted he can’t even hold his spine firm – but this isn’t the first day where I’ve visited him and he’s mostly stayed horizontal.
“I’m just resting after such a wild night. Barely slept a wink.” He flops his arm over his forehead.
“Don’t joke,” I warn gently.
“I’m not! Simon down the end was chucking his guts up.
Laurence next door knocked over his bedpan,” Danny coughs, clears his throat, but it’s just as gravelly when he continues.
“And Deepak came back to the ward hollering ‘I’m still alive, fuckers!’” Danny raises his voice and I hear a hollow laugh some distance away in response. Deepak, I assume.
“I’m glad he’s feeling better.”
Danny’s voice drops. “Oh, he’s hardly better. You should see him. He looks half-dead and hanging onto this life with a frayed thread. But he’s here. I guess that counts for something.”
I wait a moment before I change the subject. “Five down, eight letters. Risky undertaking added value around tree,” I read out loud.
Danny tuts me with surprising force considering how weak and scratchy his voice just was. “I am not wasting whatever time and brain cells I have left for a crossword. I meant what I said. I want you to get me out of here.”
“Danny,” I sigh. “I can’t. You’re sick.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. But I have a perfectly comfortable bed at home and you have all the time in the world now.”
“I’m hardly sat at home twiddling my thumbs,” I say, feeling suddenly defensive.
Danny’s expression changes. He looks hurt. “I thought this was the plan. You would stop working so you could look after me.”
“Yes, that was… that is the plan. But I’m not going to sneak you out of here if that’s against medical advice. Not two days ago, you were on oxygen again.”
I think Danny tries to lift a hand and wave away this reminder but his fingers barely rise more than an inch.
He closes his eyes and I see his throat work with a cumbersome swallow.
The doctor told me the lesions have spread to his throat and they can be very painful.
“You really want me to die in here?” he says eventually.
“I don’t want you to die anywhere!” I bark back.
Danny stares at me for a moment. “That’s very decent of you.”
“For fuck’s sake, Danny, you’re not making this easy!”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He suddenly seems to have found some energy from somewhere. “I’m sorry that my being terminally ill is so inconvenient for you.”
“It’s not that! It’s not inconvenient.” I hear my voice is loud too but I can’t seem to scale it back. “It’s just I’m trying to do as much as I possibly can for you, all by myself, and you try and fight me all the time and—”
I’m cut off by the harsh metallic whirr of the curtain opening. Kate stands there, a stern expression on her face.
And my cheeks instantly catch fire.
Every day this week. Every single day this week, when I’ve been visiting Danny and the other men on the ward, Kate has found me, dragged me to the linen storage cupboard, or to the Ladies toilets, and she has made me come and come and come.
With her fingers, with her tongue and this one time, with her slim thigh that managed to take the weight of me grinding down on it as she sucked on my tits.
I suspect that’s why I’ve made minimal progress with the crossword; because my mind keeps drifting to what plans she may have for me today. But it only takes a second for me to see that Kate is not here to seduce me right now. She is back in full Florence Fucking Nightingale mode.
“As entertaining as this exchange is for the staff and the patients, could you please keep it down?” she says tightly. “The doctor is about to start her rounds too so I’m not going to be able to make tea for everyone who wants refreshments while listening in.”
Danny snorts. I look away, embarrassed.
Kate closes the curtain behind her and immediately, her face softens.
“What’s going on anyway?” she asks.
“Danny wants me to smuggle him out of here,” I reply.
“Tattle-tale,” Danny tsks at me.
“Well, you’re not doing a good job of it by telling me.”
“We’re not going to do it at all,” I point out.
“Why not?” Kate moves to stand on the opposite side of Danny’s bed, facing me.
My mouth hangs open for a few seconds before I reply. “Because it’s a terrible idea. He’s… sick.”
Kate shrugs. “Perhaps that’s all the more reason to get away from here.”
“Exactly!” Danny adds.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” I fold the newspaper and put it on Danny’s bed. “If he’s able to leave, then why not discharge him?”
“Oh, we can’t do that. His T-cell count is still very low, and the doctor suspects his pneumonia is returning. Not to mention all the medication he’s currently on. Discharging him would be a terrible idea.”
“You also forgot that I’m losing my sight in my left eye.” Danny points at Kate who nods with a small smile.
“You’re what?” I look at Danny. “I didn’t know that!”
“Tests confirmed it yesterday,” Danny explains. “But you were busy dishing out slices of babka for most of visiting hours.”
“Not most of—” I begin but Kate interjects.
“Ocular CMV retinitis,” she says. “It’s quite common in AIDS patients. The good news is that his right eye is so far unaffected.”
I look away from Kate. She’s too calm. Too composed delivering what feels like a blow heavy enough to knock me off my feet, except I’m already sitting down. I think about Jonathan, who I read to every day. Is that what happened to his eyes?
“Why didn’t you tell me today, Danny?”
“Because I knew that you wouldn’t smuggle me out if I told you I was going half-blind.”
“You got that absolutely right!”
Kate moves to the end of the bed again. “Maybe I should leave you to discuss your escape plans?”
“Wait! You just condoned this crazy idea of his! You don’t get to just slip out and leave me to disappoint him.”
Kate’s shoulders sink. “That’s a shame. That was exactly what I was hoping to do.”
Danny snorts again and I suspect he tries to laugh too, but it gets swallowed by a coughing fit that rattles his lungs and shakes his torso. Kate immediately moves closer to him.
“Come on,” she says when the coughs ease up a little. “Sit up. I need to check your chest.”
“No, you don’t. I think you know it’s pretty bad.”
I get up and help Kate lift him. She has a stethoscope out and is listening to his chest a few seconds later.
“I’ll get the doctor to check herself in a moment,” is all she says and neither Danny nor I want to ask her to clarify further. I wonder if, like me, Danny’s hit his limit of bad news. Or perhaps he hit that wall a long time ago and now he’s simply run out of whatever energy he had left.
“I’ll get Dr Lakshitha to come to you first,” Kate continues, tucking the stethoscope away in one of her pockets. I’ve noticed she doesn’t wear it around her neck like a doctor would and I don’t know why that makes me feel a little sad for her. “The best thing you can do right now, Danny, is rest.”
“Really?” He coughs again as he settles back in bed. “I was planning on running a marathon in fishnet stockings and stilettos.”
Kate flashes him a smile. “Not today, lover boy.”
“Well, can you kick her out then?” He lifts his fingers in my vague direction.
Kate turns to me but I’m gathering the cake tin from under my chair before she can say anything. “I’m going.” I put the newspaper on top of the tin. “Mr Fredericks will be happy to help me with the crossword, at least.”
“Oh, yes, sixty-four-year-old Roman Fredericks and his encyclopaedic brain. He sounds like all the fun!”
I open my mouth to snap back but Kate catches my eye and gives me a warning look that is unusually compelling, not cold.
“Fine,” I say and I pull the curtain open and march out. I wait until I’m at the nurses’ station before I turn back around to see Kate, who I could hear following me.
“That retinitis thing,” I begin before she’s even come to a stop.
“CMV.”
“Yes, that. What does it mean? Will he go blind?”
“I hope not. We caught it quickly and he’s already started the anti-virals, so I’m optimistic he won’t lose his sight completely. But his immune system isn’t exactly firing on all cylinders so we will just have to wait and see.”
“But he will have some loss?”
“Yes, that’s very likely.”
It’s suddenly hard to take my next breath.
“Sharon, Danny is very unwell. He’s showing a lot of signs of late-stage AIDS. We’ve talked about this.” She puts her hand on my arm and it pulls my attention to the touch. “But there are lots of positives.”