Chapter Twenty-Eight
NOW
All I remember are the blue lights – the rapid French, the whirling of the helicopter and the lurch as it left the ground. When I come to, fully, in a bright white side room, there are three things that I know to be true.
I’m alone.
I’m home.
The end will be here, and soon.
I don’t press any button to let them know I’m awake.
My limbs are heavy, but I’m surprisingly alert, like my brain knows that our time is almost up, and it’s decided to really take in every sound, every colour, every speck of dust that the sunlight captures.
Perhaps this is what Earl meant, all those years ago, when he said that before we die, he imagined that we experienced an explosion of technicolour.
I’m seeing the world in high definition at last.
I sit. Feeling the steady beat of my heart.
Letting the weight of Emmett’s absence settle over me.
He lied to me about the painting. I was lying to him too, of course, just like I did all those years ago.
The sex. I don’t suppose any of it matters now.
He must know how unwell I am. There are no secrets. Not anymore.
There’s a print on the wall. A David Hockney. Beneath it there’s a quote:
The world is very, very beautiful, if you look at it.
The door opens, and I turn my head as Dr Dave comes in, smiling.
‘Ah, Luna, you’re awake,’ he says as Emmett follows him into the room and my poor, battered heart squeezes, just for a second.
‘Where’s Mae?’ I ask, eyes darting between the pair of them.
‘She’s in the waiting room. I’ll tell her you’ve come round in a moment.’ Dave sits on the edge of the bed. He’s about to tell me I’m going to die, I know it. And Emmett will hear it too and oh…
‘It’s okay, Luna,’ Emmett says. ‘It’s okay.’
What’s okay? Our fight, the fact that I’m about to die? None of that is okay.
‘Emmett tells me that you had a bit of a funny turn in Paris,’ Dave says, looking down at some notes.
I clear my throat. ‘Yes, I, er, I fainted. I hadn’t felt well for a few days.’
I look away guiltily from Emmett, where he stands by the door.
‘And you’d been taking your meds?’
‘Yes, but not always at the right time. I was too caught up in Paris, you see.’
‘Paris does tend to have that effect on people.’ Surely, Dave isn’t going to round off this conversation with, ‘And by the way, you have two days left to live,’ is he? That would be odd, even for his cheery disposition.
‘You had an infection – we’re giving you antibiotics. We’ll keep you in for a couple of days of observation but with rest and fluids, you should be able to go home early next week.’
‘Home,’ I respond dumbly.
‘Yes, home. I presume you don’t want to live at the hospital.’
‘No, definitely not. Thank you, Dr Dave. I thought you were going to tell me that… you know…’
He smiles. ‘No. Though obviously, the situation remains serious.’
I look guiltily over at Emmett as he manages a faint smile.
‘But you’re not going anywhere quite yet. A heart might well become available.’
Emmett must know then. He must know that I’ve no future.
I swallow and nod. ‘Thank you again,’ I say as Dr Dave goes to leave.
‘Don’t thank me. Emmett did everything that he needed to do. Even paid privately for an air ambulance.’
An air ambulance from Paris to the north of England. I’d have to sell a kidney to be able to afford that. Not that anyone would give me a great deal of cash, even on the black market, for one of my organs.
‘I’ll leave you two to it,’ Dr Dave says as he leaves. ‘I’ll ask Mae to give you ten minutes, shall I?’
‘Yes please, thank you, Doctor.’ I’m not looking at Dr Dave as he leaves, though. I’m looking at Emmett.
As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s on the bed, his hands around mine as I say sorry over and over and over.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you – I didn’t want to ruin our time together. I’m sorry I lied to you about Earl. You must hate me.’
‘Luna…’ Emmett’s thumbs are wiping away her tears, then his. ‘I have never hated you. I never deserved you, not then, not now.’
I sniff and shuffle further upright in the bedding.
‘But I didn’t tell you I was sick, and it’s exactly the same as before, when I didn’t tell you about Earl.’
He’s shaking his head. ‘It isn’t the same as before. Don’t think that. I knew Luna, I already knew.’
That makes me pause. I sit back to look at Emmett’s face. He’s aged a year in the last day. The skin under his eyes is paper-thin, and his lips are cracked, like he’s been out in the desert, starved of water.
‘What do you mean, you knew?’
‘I knew about your blog.’
‘When?’
‘A couple of months. You linked it on your personal Instagram. It was an accident, I think – you took it down quickly. I’m letting on just how often I looked you up on social media here, aren’t I?’
‘I did the same,’ I admit.
‘It means I knew. It was why I loaned MAM the painting. I wanted to reach out, but I didn’t think you’d come just for me. I knew you’d be there for Earl. He loved you so much, Luna.’
‘And I loved him, we both did.’ Emmett’s words are finally sinking in. He knew, this whole time, he knew.
‘I wanted to give you the opportunity to tell me yourself. I didn’t want to pressure you.
I was so annoyed when you walked up the Eiffel Tower.
Course, I didn’t know exactly how extensive the myocardiopathy was, but I knew you shouldn’t have been doing that.
I kept asking why you didn’t draw anymore. ’
He knew. He’s still talking.
‘I just knew that I had to see you. I’ve always been selfish, I still am, especially when it comes to you.’ He looks at the floor. ‘I’m DarthPainter, by the way.’
That makes me laugh. A half-hysterical laugh that cuts through the room like a bolt of lightning.
‘You caught me messaging you, in the hotel room. That’s why I was on your blog.’
I’m lost for words, caught somewhere between shock and awe.
Maybe I should be angry that Emmett didn’t tell me the whole truth. But there’s been so much hidden, so many half-truths, so mostly all I feel is relief that it’s all in the open. Plus, he knew, and he’s still here. I might not know what the future holds, but for now, he’s still here.
So instead of getting angry, I squeeze his hand as the door flies open.
Mae.
‘You’re alive.’ She’s on the bed in a fraction of a second.
‘Did you think I wouldn’t be?’
‘I thought you’d just fainted, no big deal, until someone,’ she makes a face at Emmett, ‘freaked out and spent five grand on a private air ambulance.’
‘You didn’t?’ I ask him.
‘I wanted you to be under the care of your regular cardiologist. Plus, I’d already called Dr Dave and the air ambulance before we met in Paris.’ He does look guilty at all of this. ‘Since we’re being honest,’ he finishes.
Mae is looking at Emmett with something close to shock and awe. There’s another knock at the door. Zadie pokes her head around.
‘Is she okay? Is she alive?’
‘Hi Zadie.’ I wave at her.
‘Emmett, long time no see. Thank fuck you’re still with us, Luna.’ Adult Zadie is much like teenage Zadie. Very cool.
‘Did you tell everyone that I was dying?’ I ask Mae.
‘ ’Fraid so. Mum is on her way too.’
‘She isn’t.’
‘Yep. But me and Zade have a plan to distract her anyway.’
Zade.
‘You do?’ Mae smiles at Zadie as Zadie leans over and kisses Mae on the forehead.
‘Wait, Zadie is who you’ve been hooking up with?’
Mae smiles, and some deep part of me relaxes. Maybe she’ll be okay.
‘On and off for about twenty years now, I’d say,’ Mae laughs.
‘On now, though,’ Zadie finishes.
‘Definitely on. It should distract Mum from your helicopter trip over the English Channel, I think.’
I feel full to bursting, I’m so happy. The Hockney print swims behind watery eyes.
‘I’m so happy for you both,’ I sniff. ‘So happy.’ I try to smile, but it’s difficult since I’m still crying. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Just figured it might rub salt in the wound if I was all happy with my teenage crush and you were still determined to be desperately sad for all of time.’
I reach up and hug Mae – she’s always had the biggest heart. Emmett might be the love of my life, but so is she. ‘But now Emmett’s back, everyone’s happy.’
I don’t look at Emmett. We haven’t discussed it.
I don’t know what the future holds, for me or us.
It’s still the case that I’m dying unless I get a transplant.
It’s still the case that his job takes him far away.
It’s still the case that he’s spent his whole life running away from Northumberland and the darker memories it harbours for him.
There are loud voices in the corridor outside my room.
Zadie stands up. ‘I’ll leave you guys to it,’ she says, slipping out of the door before Mum and Eyebrow Clive come through it, old and frail, and I think about how much I’ve hated them over the years.
People who aren’t good age just as much as people who are, I suppose.
‘Luna, you’re awake,’ she says in a prim tone, scanning the room, her eyes settling on Mae.
‘Yes, it’s just an infection. I’ll be home next week.’
Mum nods and her shoulders relax just a touch. I wonder if, in her own way, she does love me. Or maybe it’s just something she’s incapable of.
‘We saw Zadie in the corridor just now. I didn’t know you were all still in touch? Leave it alone, Clive.’
Mum is straightening my already straight blankets, while Clive picks up and puts down anything that’s loose in the room. He’s holding a sick tray when Mum snaps at him.
‘Zadie’s my girlfriend now,’ Mae announces.
Mum lets out a sigh.
‘I always said it, didn’t I, Clive, that Mae would turn out to be a lesbian? And she’s so beautiful, too. What a waste.’
It would be neat to say that we had some sort of a heart-to-heart here, a great big family reconciliation where we said all the things that have been left unsaid for so long.
But maybe that’s not real life and things don’t always get wrapped up neatly, because we don’t do that.
There’s no collective clearing of the air.
We just carry on. Because maybe it’s okay for our relationship to just be okay.