Chapter 14
‘Somebody get this man off my bed!’
I try to wake up, open my eyes, but they are pinned shut, as if I am being held down, my limbs immobilised. Wake me up, wake me up somebody, I try to say, try to scream, but no sound comes out of my mouth.
‘Nurse!’
I wake up with my chest in a vice, confused and disorientated. Where am I? There’s a clamour in the bay, a whoosh of air, patters of feet, outraged shouts.
Over the bay Violet is on her feet, quivering from head to toe, her face screwed up with rage and something like fear.
A nurse I don’t recognise is standing next to her, telling her to breathe.
Nicki dashes into the bay and over to her bed and pulls at something. Someone. A man, lying on Violet’s bed.
Harold.
‘I got back from my smoke and found him there!’ Violet waves her arms around. ‘In my bed, cheeky as you like! Get him out of there, nurse!’
‘Harold!’ Nicki says.
No response.
She shouts in his ear. ‘Harold! You’re in the ladies’ bay!’
Harold stirs and groans. I wonder how long he’s been there. He opens his eyes and closes them again, then opens them wide. ‘What…?’
Nicki slows her voice down. ‘You’ve got in the wrong bed, flower.
In the wrong bay.’ She looks around at Violet and me and Jodie.
‘He’s in this bed space in Bay D. Must’ve used your loo and then forgot where he was.
Now, Harold, let’s get you back to bed, shall we?
Poor Violet, stood there shivering when she’s been so poorly.
Kelly!’ She hails a healthcare assistant lingering at the door.
‘Get some new sheets for Violet’s bed, quick now. ’
Kelly scuttles off. There’s clearly a pecking order of healthcare assistants in here, and Nicki is most definitely at the top.
Violet wraps her arms around her chest. ‘It’s a jolly good thing I wasn’t in that bed when he got into it.’ Her mouth is a thin slash of disapproval.
‘It’s a bit funny, though, isn’t it,’ Jodie says, a smile curling the edges of her mouth.
Violet purses her lips and her nostrils flare. ‘No. Not in the least. Get this man out of here, nurse. This is why I asked for a room of my own! This always happens.’
Jodie smirks. ‘What, when you’re in with the commoners, you mean?’
Violet sticks out her chin and sniffs.
Jodie doesn’t leave it be. ‘An’ what, so you’re saying random dudes climb into your bed every time you come into hospital? Lucky you.’ She catches my eye and grins.
Violet huffs. ‘Stop being so—’
‘What? So chavvy? So gobby? You don’t seem to care so much when you ask me to light your fag for you.’
‘Come on, Harold.’ Nicki has Harold on his feet at last, taking firm hold of his arm. He looks older than he did last time I saw him, his face criss-crossed with jagged lines, sparse hair all askew, eyes wild. His dirty pyjama top is inside out.
‘Where am I?’
Nicki leads him out of the bay. ‘Let’s get you back, flower. It’s okay. You’re okay.’
He shuffles along with her like a small child with his mother, clinging to her arm, head hung low, compliant and silent. I think he has tears in his eyes.
‘Come on, petal. Everything is going to be okay.’
Nicki, somehow, always makes everyone okay in the end.
???
When the doctors’ rounds begin, I am sitting up out of bed.
I want them to see that I am doing well, that I have more strength, that I will be able to go home next week.
This morning, for the first time in ten days, I managed my own shower.
I sat on the fold-down chair, water pummelling my face and my body until I folded myself into it and wished it would never stop.
I scrubbed the built-up filth out of my bird’s nest hair and then brushed out the tangles.
I sit here in my clean pyjamas and fleecy dressing gown, scrolling through my Facebook feed, my stomach squirming as I wait to see if he has the CT results and what they will show.
He strolls in with his entourage packed closely round him.
They take an age looking over the patient charts, whispering to the nurse who is still dispensing our morning meds.
I hear snatches of conversation, of my name and Jodie’s and Violet’s names.
Another doctor stands at the end of Barbara’s bed, trying to get her attention.
Barbara’s mouth is slack, open in a soft snore.
A junior doctor who looks a whole lot like a very young Himesh Patel is talking to Kat, her curtains closing off the sight but not the sounds.
‘We’re pleased with your progress,’ he is saying.
Jodie leans over to me. ‘Wish he was my doctor. Hot or what?’
Kat says, ‘Can I go home then?’
‘Not yet,’ he says, in a voice barely broken. ‘The consultant wants you in a few more days, to make sure you’re all clear.’
Dr Chowdhury keeps giving me sidelong glances, talking in low tones to his students and juniors at the same time, hunched over an iPad.
His face is lined with a strained frown.
He catches me watching and nods at me, coming over and pulling the curtains around us.
Just me and him, today. My heart beats faster, my palms spiky with sweat.
‘It’s not the best news.’
A shiver explodes in my stomach.
‘But not the worst, either. It’s as I thought, though.
It’s spread – see here.’ He shows me the CT image on his tablet.
Even I can see the blotches that look like a child has splashed a bubble print on the surface of my lungs.
‘Unfortunately, there’s further scarring.
’ He scrolls back to another image, my CT scan from a couple of years back.
‘Look, here – and here. You had hardly any in this lobe, but now, well, you can see.’
I can see. It’s spreading, degenerating, progressing, whatever word you want to use. Maybe one day my lungs will simply collapse in on themselves, one great big bubble about to pop when the damage is too crushing.
‘I know it’s upsetting, Penny. But you’re strong.
Look how quickly you’ve thrown this one off.
You were in quite a state when you arrived less than two weeks ago.
I have to admit I was worried. You were nearly sent to the high dependency unit, that first night, you know, but you rallied on the oxygen.
You’ll be fine. Just keep on with the physio and the meds routine, and, well, it could slow down. ’
None of what he is saying helps, but I smile up at him anyway.
‘It’s probable that eventually you’ll be looking at a transplant,’ he says softly. ‘Not for a long time, I hope.’
I swallow and look down.
‘There’s every reason to be optimistic. Try to keep positive, Penny. You have that son of yours to keep you going, don’t you?’
I do.
There is an ocean of tears swimming inside me, trying to spill out, but it stays there all confined, threatening to burst its bank and break me into pieces. I wish the tears would flow, and I wish a little bit that I could drown in them.
‘You okay?’ Kat says to me as Dr Chowdhury pulls back my curtains and moves on to Jodie.
I shrug.
‘Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,’ she says. ‘It’s just, I can see you’re upset.’
I fiddle with a loose thread on my dressing gown.
‘You know, if you ever need to talk…’
Go away. Go away and leave me alone.
‘Yeah. Thanks.’
I don’t trust anyone. Don’t want to trust anyone.
Kat gives me a soft smile and the dry tears push harder and I curse my frailty.
‘It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.’
‘Just leave me alone.’
Kat shrinks back. ‘I’m sorry—’
‘You always have to be Mrs Perfect, don’t you?’ I bite down on my lip, trying to suck the words back from the shocked silent air. Why did you say that, Penny?
Kat falters. ‘I…’
I shake my head, trying to clear away the noise. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’
‘Please don’t do that. You’re right, I should butt out.’
She hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s Karen who is always the perfect one, always the one I can’t compare to, the one who so highlights my shortcomings. Why am I throwing all my rubbish out at Kat, at this sick patient next to me who seems to care?
I am beside myself, this dried-out broken husk, wishing I could put myself back together and inhabit a space where light got in and shadows didn’t lurk.
Kat leans back into her pillow and closes her eyes.
I pick at the bleeding skin around my nails. ‘I just, I mean, the doctor just told me that things are getting worse with my disease.’
Kat doesn’t reply. She sits up, moves her body round to face me and sits on the edge of her bed, hands on her knees, those intense blue eyes ablaze with great unsettling compassion.
I tear off a flap of skin and flinch. ‘It’s just that… I don’t know. That I just wanted to be a good mum.’
Where did that come from?
Kat gazes at me. Like she actually cares enough to climb into this moment with me.
I can’t stop the words. ‘I could never be a normal mum, you know? Like the others in the playground, all taking their kids everywhere for this and that, for sports and scouts and whatever else. Jake’s been like a prisoner in my home with me, sometimes, when I’m too sick to do anything, and now I’m just getting sicker.
It’s just not fair, you know? Why do some people get an easy time of it in life and not others? ’
Kat nods. ‘I know.’
A heat blooms in my throat. ‘Do you? You have it all, don’t you? I mean, I know you’re ill now and everything, but, like, you’re not usually are you? And you have this man who adores you and so many friends and…’
Stop, Penny. Stop being a joy killer. Stop being here.
Kat stares down at her hands. Her fingernails are spattered with the remains of pearlescent purple polish, and nearly all of her fingers are laden with rings, silver and gold and white gold. Her engagement ring is a large sapphire set in a star of diamonds.
Marcus never bought me an engagement ring at all.
‘No one’s life is perfect, Penny,’ she says softly.
‘All very well for you to say. Probably why you have faith and all that. ’Cause you haven’t lived like someone like me.’
Shut up Penny shutupshutup.
Kat droops, but she doesn’t turn away, she doesn’t tell me where to go. A dark shadow cuts through her eyes, dulling their power.
I gather myself together. ‘Sorry. Sorry.’
She breathes out slowly. ‘People’s lives are mostly messy. You might think I have it all, but what if I look at you and think you have everything I want?’
Her voice is raspy, broken up, shards of meaning slicing through her words.
I stare at her.
‘What if you have the one thing I can’t have?’
A lump clogs up my throat. Jake. ‘Oh. I’m so sorry. You mean…?’
She blinks and looks down.
I lean in towards her, grab her hands. ‘I’m sorry. I always say the wrong thing.’
‘I don’t want you to apologise, Penny. I just wanted to share with you that we’re not always what we seem on the outside, and pain can go deep.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
Kat puffs out her cheeks. ‘Will you stop apologising, woman?’
I try to smile. ‘I’ll try.’
‘I’m sorry about your disease,’ she says, squeezing my hands. ‘That’s rubbish.’
‘Yeah.’
‘But you’ll be out of here soon? Back home with Jake?’
I lift my shoulders.
‘And before that,’ Kat says, suddenly grinning, ‘we have a special trip to go on, don’t we?’
Sister Harris wanders into the ward, rubbing sanitiser into her hands and surveying the patients, bushy eyebrows raised. ‘Well, well, well. Not you lot again!’
Jodie laughs. ‘Can’t get rid of us that easy, Sister.’
‘Hmm. Very rare, actually, to have the same patients in a bay for so long. It’s usually like Piccadilly, all comings and goings all hours of the day and night.’ She looks at Kat. ‘You cast a spell, or said a prayer, or whatever you do?’
Kat smiles enigmatically.
‘Still, you’ll all be off home before we know it, won’t you? We don’t want you lot clogging up these beds longer than you need to.’ She grins round at us, warm brown eyes sparkling, and then plucks Barbara’s chart from the end of her bed.
‘What?’ Barbara says, straining forward to hear. Her hair is standing straight up, a thin white shock of it, as if she’s stuck a finger in an electric socket. ‘Did you say I can go home?’
‘Not quite yet, Barbara my love,’ Sister Harris says, scouring the notes. ‘Few days, though. You’re doing all right, aren’t you?’
I’m not sure she is, really. I heard her doctor discussing her with one of the nurses yesterday, talking about discharging her back to her care home.
It wouldn’t be long, the doctor said, that would be the best place for her to go more comfortably and quietly, among her familiar things with familiar people.
Jodie heard her, too, and said that we should get planning, because this was going to be the only chance Barbara got.
What if we missed the opportunity, and they came to take Barbara away, and she never saw the outside world again?
Nicki comes back into the bay with Kelly in her wake. ‘Heard you took her for a little fresh air yesterday,’ she says to Jodie, nodding her head at Barbara. ‘Did her the world of good, that did. Such a kind thing to do. You going to take her again today? She’s kept on about it ever since, she has.’
Jodie grins. ‘That’s the plan. And tomorrow. Every day.’
Sister Harris doesn’t look convinced.
‘You make it sound like you’re all here to stay for good.’ Nicki winks at Sister Harris. ‘You only want to stay for the five-star service, I know.’
Kat laughs. ‘You’re right there. And the gourmet cuisine.’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, not me,’ Violet says, screwing up her nose. ‘The food in here is disgusting. And they let men wander in here in the dead of night and get into our beds. And even after all that they still won’t give me my own room. What’s the world coming to?’
Jodie hisses something under her breath. I think it’s probably something Jake would say.
Amina clears her throat. ‘Will you stop moaning, woman. You are lucky to have this health care, in this country. You should be grateful, not all this whinging all the time.’
We stare at her.
And then Jodie laughs. ‘Too right, Amina. Too right.’
Violet crosses her arms, rolls her eyes and sniffs loudly.
But she doesn’t say anything.