Chapter 20
The early morning air was chilly, and a little misty, as she stepped out of her car to walk up Will’s front path. Such a different start from her magical morning at the beach.
The day was here. And so was Cath, ready to take him to the hospital for his op.
Though she felt anxious, there was also a sense of relief that this was it.
That the surgery would be happening. And that somehow, they’d forge a path from here.
Cath had shifted a few tutorials around this week, to be there with Will when needed.
He was at the door by the time she lifted her hand to knock.
Aware of the early hour, and with the girls at home, she wasn’t sure whether to use the doorbell.
There’d have been no worries about waking them, however, as they were both here, still in their dressing gowns with bed-head hair, ready to see him off.
And that was lovely. They were here for him, too.
His hospital bag was in hand, with a few essentials packed.
‘Okay? Ready?’ asked Cath, straightforwardly.
‘As ready as I ever will be.’ He gave a cautious smile.
‘Oh, Dad. Take care.’ Sophie rushed to his side.
‘Go smash it, Dad. Hope the op goes great. Get the fucker out,’ said Maddie.
‘Will do. Clive is to be forever banished.’ He must have shared its name with the girls last night. ‘And hey, I’ll be fine,’ Will reassured.
‘Ring us as soon as you can, yeah? Let us know how it goes,’ added Sophie, concern creasing her brow.
‘Or get Cath to, if you’re not feeling up to it,’ added Maddie.
‘I will, of course,’ stepped in Cath.
‘And we’ll come down and see you later, of course,’ said Maddie.
‘Love you, Daddy.’ Sophie gave him the biggest hug, reverting to her childhood term.
‘Love you, Dad,’ followed Maddie, keeping it simple.
*
The journey had thankfully been a straightforward one. They’d given themselves plenty of time, as Cath was aware that parking could be an issue, even at this early hour. But five floors up in the hospital multi-storey she finally spotted a space.
Finding the ward was another small challenge.
The Royal Victoria Infirmary was such a big hospital.
But they tracked it down and were buzzed in, Will announcing himself at the nurse’s reception desk.
Ushered to a bed bay on a four-bed ward, with clinical aromas abundant, a nurse, who introduced herself as Annie, ran through the procedure again.
She then gave Will the medical consent form to sign with the many side-effects listed.
A stark reminder of what might lie ahead.
Will was then asked to prepare himself for surgery. After a trip to the loo, he put on his gown – one of the gorgeous NHS ones, white with a geometric pattern, and the gappy strings at the back. And to Cath he suddenly seemed so vulnerable there, even though he was smiling, if a little tautly.
He gave Cath his phone and watch for safekeeping, and left his overnight things in his bedside locker.
The nurse had returned asking about next of kin, and Cath froze for a moment waiting to hear Will’s answer.
Where the hell did she slot into all this?
His girlfriend – she hated that word – hardly covered it.
Yet, if they thought she wasn’t closely involved with Will, they might not allow her to be at this bedside at all; how crazy.
‘Umm, there’s my two daughters, Maddie and Sophie,’ he started, ‘and of course, Cath here …’ He stalled for a second, before adding, ‘She’s my partner.’
And how did that fit in the scheme of things NHS-wise nowadays? They weren’t married, hadn’t even been together as a couple that long, Cath feared.
It seemed to work, however. Not everyone was married, after all. Annie took down all three telephone contacts, and confirmed, with Will’s agreement, that the ward staff would ring Cath as soon as he came around in recovery after surgery.
Then the porter rolled a trolley bed in, the nurse announcing it was time to go to theatre.
Will seemed pretty chipper, keen to get on with it, his chin up and ready to go.
And after a kiss on the cheek, a hand clasp that meant so much, and a cheery ‘best of luck’ from Cath, onto the trolley he clambered and off he was wheeled.
The porter talked away with him; no doubt trained in easy-going diversionary chat.
His hand appeared from the side of the trolley, giving a small wave; the cannula evident there.
Cath felt a huge lump in her throat. ‘Bye for now, my love,’ she whispered, more to herself than him. Take care.
She took a long, slow breath and felt her eyes misting.
He’ll be okay, she told herself. A few minutes later, she was still sitting quietly on the ward he’d been taken from, on a plastic chair beside his empty bed, feeling a little dazed.
Nurse Annie popped her head around the part-drawn bay curtain.
‘You okay, my love? Can I get you anything? A cup of tea perhaps?’
‘Ahm, no thanks, but thank you for asking.’
After a few quiet moments, Cath switched to feeling restless. Time was going so slowly. It might yet be ages before Will even went into surgery. The operation was a delicate one, and could take around two hours, they’d been advised, and in more complex cases sometimes up to five.
Will had suggested, before he’d been taken to theatre, that she went off shopping in the nearby city centre to fill the time.
How the hell could she wander around John Lewis and Next looking at bloody clothes and shoes?
She then remembered there was a park nearby on the Town Moor and decided to head out of the hospital and go for a walk.
She found the entrance to Exhibition Park, and headed in beneath its Victorian-style metal-arch sign.
Discovering the lake and the old white-domed brewery building, she walked on past a traditional bandstand, and then spotted several young children running about and playing in the park.
This made her think back to when Adam was little, and to reflect on when Sophie and Maddie would have been youngsters, too.
Those original family units now smashed to smithereens.
Who’d have guessed the diverse paths they were all to go on.
It was a good job you didn’t know what was going to happen in life, she mused.
But she wouldn’t let herself get morose.
There was always good in this world, too.
It was so nice to hear the children’s laughter here.
Now that the girls had been made aware, Will had wanted her to advise their supper club friends of his surgery, and the reasons behind it.
They were going to find out soon enough, anyhow.
Nothing stayed secret in Tilldale for long.
It’d be pretty obvious something major had happened once he was back in the village and recuperating.
Cath had been walking for a while and it had been a good distraction.
Feeling suddenly weary, the emotions of the day no doubt taking their toll, Cath found a park bench to rest a while.
Now seemed like a good time to make that contact with their friends.
Taking out her mobile phone, she decided a group message seemed the fairest way of letting them know, all at the same time.
She decided short, sweet and to the point was the best way forward, and then pressed send.
Within seconds her phone began buzzing in her palm. ‘Hello.’
‘Oh, petal, how are you?’ Andreas’s warm and caring voice came down the line.
‘Oh, Andreas. I’m okay, I think. Just playing the waiting game, whilst he’s in surgery. I’m sat in the park.’
‘What a shock for you both. That was the last thing I expected to read … We’re still reeling, so goodness knows how you’re feeling. We’re on speakerphone, by the way, Dan’s here, too.’
‘Hi, lovely. Sending a great big hug,’ Dan came in.
‘Thank you.’
‘So, what’s happening today?’ queried Andreas. ‘Surgery obviously, and then …?’
‘He’ll stay in overnight, for sure, for monitoring. And depending on how he seems to be recovering, he should be allowed home later tomorrow. He’ll need a few weeks off work. He’ll have to take things steady for a while.’
‘Of course. It sounds a delicate operation.’
‘Yeah, it is.’
‘And the cancer? Sorry, tell me if this is too much …’ Dan asked cautiously.
‘It’s fine to ask. It’s a relief to be able to talk about it, to be honest. We’ve had to keep the whole thing secret up until now for the sake of Will’s girls.
Sophie had an exam, and we only told them yesterday evening.
So, thankfully, the cancer seems to be contained, and removing the prostate today, fingers crossed, removes it all.
I think they do further tests thereafter, to check … ’
‘At least, it sounds like they’ve caught it early,’ remarked Dan.
‘Yes, the team seem to think so.’
‘Thank God. And I hope it all goes really well for him today,’ said Andreas.
‘Send him our love and very best wishes,’ added Dan.
‘And if there’s anything at all we can do to help, just shout,’ confirmed Andreas.
‘Absolutely. Anything at all,’ Dan echoed.
Their kindness got to her, and she felt all choked up as she said, ‘Tha-nks.’
‘Lots of love, petal. We’ll be thinking of you both,’ Andreas continued. ‘Oh, and send us a message … when you get chance, once he’s okay and out of surgery.’
‘Will do.’
‘And we’ve all just sent messages to Will, on the group chat, too,’ he added. ‘For when he comes to. I’m sure it’ll all work out fine.’
‘Thanks so much, lads.’ Right now, she’d really needed to hear that strand of hope.
Cath took a slow breath as she closed the call, wiping a tear from her eye. She’d been keeping herself strong for far too long. Aw, bless them, their support meant everything.
After only a few seconds, Nikki was on the line. ‘Hey, hun. What’s all this that’s been happening? And today … surgery is today?’ Nikki sounded somewhat incredulous. ‘Are you okay? How’s Will doing? What a bloody shock.’
‘Yeah, we’re still reeling from the diagnosis. He’s in, he’s most likely under by now, and God, do I feel weird,’ she confessed.
‘Aw, bless. Shall I come down? Keep you company? I can easily shift a few jobs around.’
‘Oh, that’s so sweet, but I’ll be okay. It might not be too long, the operation, and then I’ll be heading back to the ward. You might end up having a wasted journey.’
‘Hey, I don’t mind. Being there for you is never a waste, hun.’ Nikki’s words were heartfelt.
‘Thanks, I’ll keep in touch, and I so appreciate the offer, but honestly, don’t come rushing down.’
‘Okay, but let me know if anything changes.’
‘I will.’
‘And hey, why didn’t you tell me before? I could have been there for you both.’
‘I know, sorry, Will’s prerogative. He didn’t want the girls to know too soon, not after everything they’ve already been through …’
‘Ah, of course …’
‘And Sophie had an important uni exam coming up.’
‘Ah, right.’
‘We told them last night.’
‘Ooh, only then. How did they take it?’ Nikki well knew the background to the family’s loss. She’d known and liked Jane, too. It was, of course, a small village. A close community.
‘Not too bad. Gutted, of course. But, hey, we’re all trying to be positive. And it does sound like they’ve caught it in time. Fingers crossed.’
‘Thank Christ for that. Look, I’m mid cleaning job, but I couldn’t not call you. I’m sending heaps of love, huge hugs, and fingers crossed for the op, and everything.’
‘Thanks, lovely.’
‘I’ll call back later. See how the patient’s getting on.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Love you loads. Take care. Hang on in there. He’ll be out and driving you nuts again soon enough.’
‘Yeah.’
‘And please, let me know if I can help in any way.’
In the midst of her own already hectic life, it was so lovely that Nikki was there for them, and happy to help.
The message that had just come in from Lily was touching, too:
Hey, guys, so sorry to hear about your sad news. Sending loads of love and support for today! Let me know how I can help. Xx
Cath felt filled with such a sense of warmth. If she was now acting as Will and his girls’ safety net, then she knew, as sure as anything, that these guys, these wonderful supper clubbers, were there to be her safety net, too. And that meant the world to her.
*
After a further twenty minutes sitting on a park bench, watching the world go by, a rain shower set in, and having only come away in a thin jacket, Cath headed back to the hospital.
She shook off the raindrops, and finding a coffee shop in the main foyer, she sat nursing a latte, watching the ins and outs of patients, of porters and carers.
Hearing the wail of an ambulance siren, the frustrated tantrum of a crying toddler.
The waiting and wondering. Day appointments, check-ups, major surgery, all going on at the same time.
Life and death, and the miracle that was perhaps a dozen surgeons’ hands, right now, working on patients, fixing and healing, as well as the committed care of the nurses in the many wards around her.
It was pretty mind-blowing. And you never really gave it a second thought until you were there, plucked out from your everyday life and thrown suddenly into the mix of it.
She took her Kindle from her handbag, and settled down to read for a while, choosing an easy-going romantic comedy to help take her mind off things.
A while later and her phone was ringing. She scrambled to pull it from her pocket. A Newcastle number … the ward? Oh.
‘Hi, it’s Cath.’ And breathe …
‘Hello, Cath. It’s Annie. Good news, Will’s out of surgery and doing fine in recovery. He was lucky to be one of the first in.’
Oh, praise the Lord.
‘They’ll be bringing him back up to the ward soon. I’d say give it fifteen minutes, and then come back up whenever you’re ready.’
‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’ She felt a weight lift from her.
This was the start – and yes, there’d be a hill of healing to climb – of life heading back up.
Of more tests, and checks for cancer on the way, but he’d got through the op okay, and this felt like the first step to finding happier days.
She raised her latte mug in a mini ‘cheers’ to herself.