‘Okay.’ I nod.
Miss Hanlon smiles. ‘And if you change your mind and ever want to talk about anything you know where I am, okay?’
‘Yeah,’ I say, knowing she’s never going to drop this now. ‘Thanks.’
Nine
Kayla
‘Does it still hurt?’ Aiden asks as I sit on the couch in his parents’ sitting room with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel on my knee.
‘Nah. Not really,’ I say as Aiden flicks through channels on the TV.
‘Ha. Knew you were faking,’ he laughs.
I wish. The pain is darting the whole way down my leg in these weird waves that start at my knee and kind of trace the bone all the way to the ankle and then work their way back up. I don’t want to say anything to Aiden because he’d probably tell his mam and she’s been fussing over me all afternoon as it is. She’s so lovely, but it’s mortifying. I already had Aiden’s older sister who’s home from college moan, ‘Jesus, Mam never took care of me like that when I broke my arm, did ya, Mam?’
‘Ah, go away, you,’ Aiden’s mam said, laughing as she swatted her daughter out of the room as if she was a manky fly. ‘Don’t mind her, Kayla. You rest up and I’ll see if we have any ice cream in the fridge.’
Aiden says his sister was only joking but I definitely think she was at least half pissed off.
‘Right, what do you want to watch?’ Aiden asks, flicking through the channels on the telly.
‘I don’t mind,’ I shrug.
‘Do you want to go up to my room to watch Netflix? I think the new episode of Riverdale is ready.’
I glance at my knee.
‘Can you walk?’ Aiden asks, and I know he’s more concerned than he’s pretending.
‘Course I can,’ I lie. ‘But can we just stay down here? Your mam will be all weird if we go upstairs together. She’ll start thinking we’re going out again.’
Aiden scrunches his nose. ‘Good point,’ he says, and his eyes drop briefly to my knee and I know he knows I’m firing out excuses because my knee is killing me.
‘Anyway, my mam just texted.’ My eyes sweep over my phone screen as I’m talking. ‘She says she’ll be here in fifteen minutes. She’s leaving work early.’
‘What? Noooo,’ Aiden says, pointing to the TV. ‘Look, Friends is just starting. It’s the one where Joey doesn’t share food.’
‘Joey never shares food,’ I correct, laughing. ‘Anyway, sorry. She seems in a hurry to go. She said, “be ready, please,” and she added a tonne of exclamation marks and no kisses.’
‘Oooohhh,’ Aiden jokes. ‘Someone’s in trouble. What have you done now, Kayla Prendergast Doran? Huh, huh? Speak up, young lady. Speak up.’
Aiden’s impersonation of our principal complete with her silly pout and hands on hips is hilarious and I’m laughing like a donkey when his mam comes back into the sitting room.
‘Well you two certainly seem to be enjoying yourselves.’ She smiles, and I cringe waiting for her to make some joke about me being her future daughter-in-law like she usually does. But Aiden shoots her a warning look and she nods back knowingly.
Oh. My. God. Wait? Did Aiden seriously tell his mam to stop making jokes about us being a couple? What the hell! That’s even more cringe than her actually making jokes about us being a couple. I’m going to kill him for a second time.
‘I’ve thrown a pizza in the oven. It’ll be ready in ten minutes. And I’ve no ice cream but I’ll nip to the shop and get some in a bit. How’s the knee now, Kayla? Any better?’ Aiden’s mam says.
I nod. ‘Yeah. Loads. Oh, Mary, my mam just texted. She said she’ll be here soon. I’m not sure I’ll have time for pizza.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Mary says. ‘Your mam will probably be starving after a hectic day. I’ll throw another pizza on and she can stay for dinner too.’
‘Thanks, Mary, but I think she’s in a bit of a hurry, I’m sorry,’ I say, cringing a little because it’s really hard to be polite while basically saying my mam sounds pissed off about something in her text and I doubt she wants to come in for frozen pizza.
‘Not at all,’ Mary shakes her head. ‘If she wants to take you for an X-ray you’ll be in the hospital half the night. She’ll be glad of a bite to eat, don’t worry. Anyway, I haven’t seen your mam in ages. I’m looking forward to a catch-up.’
‘Okay,’ I say, knowing it would be rude to protest. Mam can explain herself when she gets here. And maybe Mary is right. Mam will probably be starving. The pizza won’t be a patch on the one from the takeaway that I was hoping we could get tonight but at least it means I can stay and watch Friends.
Canned laughter fills the sitting room as Aiden and I watch Joey and Phoebe sit on the couch in Central Perk and Joey tries to explain that food is not for sharing.
‘That’s me,’ Aiden says wrinkling his lip and nodding his head, confidently. ‘Aiden doesn’t share food.’
I snort and can’t hold in a laugh. It makes my whole body shake. Including my knee, but the pain is worth it because Aiden’s face is both insulted and hilarious.
‘You don’t even eat the crusts of your pizza!’ I say.
‘Shut up,’ Aiden folds his arms, losing. ‘Crusts hurt my gums. There’s sneaky crispy bits that get stuck there. Sometimes they even bleed.’
I can barely breathe I’m laughing so hard as Aiden throws a cushion and it hits me in the face.
‘Ouch,’ I say, still laughing. He throws another but misses. ‘Stop,’ I say holding my hand up to surrender. ‘Do you smell that?’
‘Pizzzzzzaaaaa,’ Aiden jumps up.
The smell of melted cheese and pepperoni wafts from the kitchen just as the doorbell rings.
‘Ugh, my mam,’ I say. ‘Seriously, her timing.’
‘I’ll get it,’ Aiden says, picking up the cushions and placing them back on the couch exactly as they were before so his mam doesn’t kill him later. ‘I’d tell you to wait here, but I know I don’t have to, you cripple ya.’
Aiden leaves the sitting-room door open and walks into the hall.
‘Hi, Heather,’ he says and I feel the draft of cold air from the open door almost straight away. ‘Kayla’s on the couch. She’s been a terrible patient. Moaning all day.’
‘Is your mother here?’ Mam says, and she sounds weird, cranky like a teacher or something.
‘Um yeah,’ Aiden says, and I can tell he’s picked up on her mood. ‘She’s cooking pizza. She’s put some on for you too.’
There’s a moment of silence and I wonder if they’re not talking or just talking really quietly.
‘I can’t stay,’ Mam says.
‘Oh. Yeah, sure okay.’ Now Aiden sounds weird, like he doesn’t know what to say or do.
‘Can I have a word with your mam?’ Mam asks. ‘I just want to thank her for today.’
‘Yeah. Okay. Come on in. Mam’s in the kitchen if you want to go in to her.’
I hear the front door close and the noise of my mam’s heels clip-clopping across the hall floor. She doesn’t stick her head in the sitting-room door to say hi as I was expecting. Instead, it’s Aiden’s head in the gap. And his eyes are wide and round and he looks full-on traumatised.
‘Okay. Your mam is in the worst mood ever,’ Aiden whispers. ‘That was so weird.’
‘Really?’ I say, confused. Mam loves Aiden. She’s usually so cool around him. I slag them both for getting on so well and joke that they are actually the ones who are best friends.
‘Did the school say something to her today when they called?’ Aiden asks. ‘Miss Hanlon was super weird around you, wasn’t she? What did she say?’
‘Nothing.’ I shake my head, Miss Hanlon’s conversation instantly replaying in my mind.
I bet Aiden is right. Miss Hanlon must have said something to my mam about food and now Mam is all freaked out. That would explain her snappy text too. Oh great. Now I’m going to have to listen to a lecture on body image all night. Thanks a bunch, Miss Hanlon.
Aiden hi
ts mute on the telly so we can listen as my mam and his mam come into the hall, talking.
‘I really am sorry, Mary,’ my mam says. ‘You’ve gone to all this trouble. And Kayla loves pizza. It’s just I want to get to the hospital and get this knee business seen to.’
‘No need to apologise, Heather,’ Mary says. ‘We’ll catch up another time. And, between Aiden and his sister, I doubt very much the pizza will go to waste. Sure, I can’t keep that boy fed. He’d eat the legs off the table, given half the chance.’
‘I’m so grateful for today,’ Mam says. ‘And you had to pick the kids up early and everything. You’re so good, Mary. Coffee on me soon, yeah?’
Mam sounds weird. It’s freaking me out.
‘Ah, would you stop. You’d do the same for me,’ Mary says. ‘And coffee would be great.’
The sitting-room door finally swings back all the way and Mam appears, smiling, but she looks awful.
‘Hey you,’ Mam says and I think she’s going to cry.
I bet Mam’s boss was horrible when she had to leave early. Mam says he’s an asshole. I feel so bad. All this fuss. And my knee feels kind of okay now. I really wish Miss Hanlon hadn’t called home.
Aiden stands up as Mam walks in. Mary comes in behind Mam. Everyone is standing except me. It’s insanely uncomfortable.
‘Bad fall?’ Mam asks.
‘Nah,’ I shake my head. ‘More annoyed that I fell just before I scored the winning basket.’
‘Ha, cocky much,’ Aiden tries to joke, reminding me he was on the opposing team but no one laughs and he blushes.
‘Right, missy,’ Mam smiles again and her eyes glass over more. It’s as if every time she tries to pretend to be cool and happy she really wants to cry. ‘Let’s get going.’
‘Okay,’ I say, slowly swinging my legs from using the couch like a bed to sitting upright like usual.
‘Your dad will carry you to the car, okay?’ Mam says.
‘Dad!’ I screech, realising by everyone’s faces that my reaction was way too dramatic, but seriously… ‘What is Dad doing here?’
‘Hey, love,’ Dad says.
‘Heeeeyyy.’ I blush, turning much quieter as he comes into view.
‘C’mon.’ His voice is so deep and calm and normal. Not like Mam’s at all. ‘Let’s get you into the car.’
Dad nods as he brushes past Mary and I realise this must be mega awkward for them ’cos they’ve never actually met before. Dad stands in front of me and bends.
‘Okay, wrap your arms around my neck and I’m going to lift you,’ he says.
‘Seriously?’ I pull a face.
‘Seriously,’ Dad replies.
‘Okay. Fine. Whatever.’
I slide my arms around Dad’s shoulders and he slides his arms under me and there’s no count to three or anything; he just lifts me into the air and I kinda slide down his arms until I’m pressed against his chest and I can smell the familiar aftershave I really like, the one that’s all herbal and spicy, and I start crying. I’ve no idea why. It’s so bloody embarrassing and I try to keep it under control so it’s just tears running down my face and stuff, no actual sobbing, but I really want Dad to hurry and carry me out to the car before Aiden or Mary notice.
‘You’re okay, Kay,’ Dad says, noticing. ‘I have you.’
What the hell, Dad? Are you trying to make it worse? I think, his comforting words making it so much harder to keep it together.
‘We’ll call you,’ Mam says as Dad carries me out the door. ‘And, thanks again, Mary. Thanks, Aiden.’
‘Bottom button,’ Dad says as Mam holds the car keys in her hands, pointing them at the driver’s door without anything happening. ‘Double click,’ Dad explains.
Dad’s Audi plays a celebratory melody when Mam finally presses the right button and I wonder what it must be like for Molly to sit in a car this posh every day to go to school. And then I wonder what it must be like for Dad to love two kids leading such different lives.
Ten
Kayla
‘Will we get a takeaway?’ Mam asks, as Dad drives out of Aiden’s estate and turn towards town. ‘There’s a fab pizza place on the main street, isn’t there, Kayla?’
‘Yeah, it’s fine,’ I say, wondering when one of them is going to tell me what on earth is going on.
‘Or Chinese,’ Mam says. ‘Do you still like Chinese, Gavin?’
Mam doesn’t give Dad time to answer before she rambles on. ‘I have their number.’ She roots in her handbag and pulls out her mobile. ‘I can call our order ahead and it’ll be ready to pick up in ten minutes.’
‘Anything is fine,’ Dad says. ‘I’m not really that hungry.’
Mam slides her phone back into her bag. ‘Oh, well, maybe I could just make us some sandwiches back at the house—’
‘Okay,’ I say, folding my arms and sitting a little straighter. ‘What is going on? This is way too weird. Why is Dad here? Why are you two together? And if we’re getting pizza now, why didn’t we just stay and have pizza at Aiden’s?’
‘You’re right,’ Mam says, slackening her seat belt so she can turn to look at me. ‘Pizza is the best plan. I’ll call now and get them to deliver. It’ll probably arrive just as we get home.’
I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling. I’m obviously in trouble or Mam and Dad wouldn’t be here together. It looks like it’s pizza with a side of lecture for dinner. Great!
Back at the house, Dad is super careful as he carries me to the couch and Mam runs upstairs. She comes back with the teal fleece blanket from my bed even though it’s not cold.
‘There now,’ Mam says, tucking me in, and it’s surprisingly comfortable.
There’s a knock on the front door and Dad pulls out his wallet before he even leaves the sitting room. ‘I’ll get this,’ he says, hurrying as if something might happen if he’s out of the room for too long.
Mam doesn’t talk while he’s gone. She’s staring at me with teary eyes and the only sounds are the mumbles from Dad talking to the pizza guy at the door.
‘Okay what?’ I say, pressing my hands onto my hips.
‘Let’s just wait for Dad,’ Mam says.
I’m momentarily distracted by the delicious smell as Dad comes back carrying two large pizza boxes. I can tell they’re pepperoni before he even opens a box, and as much as my tummy is rumbling pizza will have to wait because I can’t take this weirdness anymore.
‘Will one of you please, please, please tell me what’s going on? If I’ve done something wrong—’
‘Kayla, no. God no,’ Dad says, quickly. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, kiddo. None of this is your fault.’
‘None of what?’ I ask, more confused than ever.
‘I- I-’ Mam stutters, looking at Dad. ‘Gavin.’
‘Your test results are back, Kay,’ Dad says, and I watch as he looks like he might drop the pizza boxes.
‘And?’ I say, my tummy somersaulting.
‘It’s not great news,’ Dad says. His face has gone weird, as if he’s frozen.
I exhale and shake my head. ‘But I can still play basketball, right? I mean, whatever the problem is they can fix it.’
‘Kayla,’ Mam says, sitting on the couch beside me and taking my hand the way people do with old people in movies when they’re about to break bad news. ‘Your father and I met a doctor in Dublin today and—’
‘And,’ I cut across her, ‘can I still play basketball? We have the county finals in six weeks. I have to play, Mam. Please? I’ll take it easy after that. I’ll rest up until Christmas or whatever. But I have to play the final. Please, you know how important this is.’
‘Kayla you’re very sick,’ Dad says, finally putting the pizza boxes down on the coffee table.
I exhale really sharply and make myself light-headed. This isn’t fair. They’re ganging up on me!
‘Kayla, sweetheart,’ Mam says, stroking her thumb over and back across my hand. ‘The doctor says you have cancer.’
> What? I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Cancer. What the fuck? No. Just. No.
‘Kayla?’ Mam calls me.
I don’t answer. Dad comes to sit beside me on the couch and kisses my head like he used to when I was little.
‘Kayla, I’m sorry,’ Mam says, ‘but we’re going to see the best doctors in the best hospital and—’
‘So I really can’t play anymore,’ I finally say. ‘I mean, that’s it. Everything I’ve worked so hard for, that’s it. It was all just a big waste.’
‘Kayla, I really am so sorry sweetheart. I’m sorry,’ Mam says.
Mam and Dad continue to talk but I’m not really listening. Mam is apologising over and over as if any of this is her fault and Dad is being Mr Overly Positive, so I know how freaked out he actually is. I open my eyes and stare at Mam’s favourite photo of me above the fireplace. My face is all red and sweaty and I’m smiling like crazy after shooting hoops with Dad and Charlotte for hours. I’m missing my two front teeth so I think I was about six-ish. I remember how I couldn’t wait to grow up and play for a real team. I never realised I was wishing my life away. But I guess I was. This isn’t fair.
I close my eyes and try so hard not to cry. Suddenly basketball isn’t the most important thing in the world. Staying alive is.
Eleven
Charlotte
The house is eerily silent apart from the low hum of the old pipes in the attic. God only knows how long I’ve been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark. Cold and unable to sleep I feel around on the bedside table for my phone, smiling when my wedding ring clinks against the chrome cover. I drag it into bed with me and the insanely bright screen lights up half the room in a foggy blue hue.
‘Ten past three,’ I say aloud, as if anyone was listening. ‘And still no word from Gavin.’
I texted him a few times. And I tried calling him once when I was waiting in the car while Molly was at her piano lesson. I tried him on WhatsApp and Facebook Messenger too but I can see that he hasn’t even opened the messages.
The Forever Gift Page 6
