Julia made it sound so simple but she might think differently if she saw life from Phoebe’s perspective. She didn’t quite appreciate how opportunities in Phoebe’s life only arrived to be snatched away. It wasn’t Julia’s fault; they were best friends but there were some things that Julia was better off not knowing, things that Phoebe would rather forget.
It hadn’t helped that Phoebe’s life had been built on perilously weak foundations. Her mum, Eleanor, had been a rebellious teenager who had fallen pregnant and had little choice but to stay at home with her authoritarian parents who helped bring up their grandchild. It was impossible to say if Eleanor’s decision to run away with Phoebe nine years later had been a desperate attempt to claim her independence or simply to hurt her parents more. It hardly mattered because the end result would have been the same – Eleanor quickly fell in with the wrong crowd and eventually died in desperate circumstances, leaving behind a seventeen-year-old daughter who, rather than learn from her mother’s mistakes, had convinced herself that she was destined to follow the same self-destructive path.
When Phoebe had returned home to Liverpool, her grandmother had had her work cut out taming the girl who had suffered years of neglect, but Phoebe had eventually stopped resisting and allowed someone to control her and, more importantly, take care of her. And she had been relatively content leading a steady and unremarkable life, but things were changing. At home she was now primary carer while at work …
‘My manager has already suggested the same thing,’ she told Julia. ‘They want me to enrol on some management programme starting in April next year.’
‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it?’ Julia said, more in hope than with any real conviction.
‘I went for the promotion because my nan said I should, not because I wanted it. She’s looking to the future when she’ll go into a care home and we’ll have to sell the house to fund it. There’ll be enough equity left for me to get a small house or an apartment but I will have to support myself, and besides, I’m always helping my manager sort out the rotas and the stock sheets, so I know I could do the job. It’s just …’ She looked around the gallery at the prints and paintings hanging from the walls. The vibrancy of the colours hurt her eyes, making them sting. ‘I know I should be happy about it. It’s a proper job, a proper career.’
‘Just not the career you wanted. You could always—’
‘No, I couldn’t,’ Phoebe said before her friend had the chance to finish. She wasn’t about to be talked into a sudden change in direction, not by someone who might not have everything she wanted in life, but she certainly had more than Phoebe could even dream of.
Realizing it was an argument that she wasn’t going to win, Julia said, ‘Time for that coffee now?’
Checking her watch again, Phoebe said, ‘I suppose I could run back to work. The exercise would do me good.’
After taking a very quick look around the rest of the gallery, they made their way downstairs to the small cafeteria on the ground floor. While Phoebe went to get the drinks, Julia found a table. Her clothes were as damp as her mood and the visit had done little to lift her spirits. She worried about Phoebe.
‘Here, I got you a muffin,’ Phoebe said as she set down the tray.
‘Nothing for you?’ asked Julia. ‘You’re not dieting, are you?’
‘Not particularly, why? Do you think I should?’
‘No, Phoebe, I don’t think you need to lose weight, not at all,’ Julia said and not for the first time.
Phoebe had always been self-conscious about her weight and her nan didn’t help by making direct comparisons with her two gazelle-like friends. Julia presumed Theresa thought she was helping by telling Phoebe she was just big-boned. ‘You’re perfectly proportioned,’ Julia added for emphasis.
Ignoring the platitudes, Phoebe said, ‘I’ll more than make up for it when I get home later. It’s impossible to avoid food living with Nan. She still lectures me on how my leftovers could keep a family in the Third World going for a week. And then she has the nerve to complain when I get fat.’
‘You are not fat!’
Phoebe sipped her coffee and steadfastly refused to look at the muffin Julia had broken in two. ‘Eat, Julia. You’re the one who could do with some meat on your bones.’
Julia had lost her appetite of late but setting a good example, she tore off a morsel of sponge dappled in blueberry juice and dutifully popped it into her mouth. ‘Paul and I went to the doctor this week.’
‘If that isn’t taking coupledom to the extreme then I don’t know what is,’ Phoebe said. It was offered as a joke although both remained sombre-faced.
‘It was a “couple” problem.’
‘Ah.’
Phoebe surprised them both by picking up her half of the muffin and taking a bite. Julia waited for her to ask for more detail and when Phoebe didn’t, she added, ‘We’ve been referred to a fertility specialist at the Women’s Hospital.’
‘I suppose that’s a good thing,’ Phoebe said uncertainly. ‘You’ll get some answers at least.’
‘But I don’t know if I’m ready for answers, Phoebe. It sounds churlish, I know, but the last place I want to go is to a maternity hospital where they’ll probably tell me I’m never going to need its services.’
Julia wasn’t sure what she wanted her friend to say but the silence was perhaps the worst of responses. Her mouth felt suddenly dry and she took a sip of coffee. ‘Paul’s said we should stop trying so hard to get pregnant and just let nature take its course, at least until we’ve seen the consultant and we have a plan of action. He thinks obsessing about it is putting us under too much stress.’
‘And is it?’
‘It’s certainly starting to feel that way,’ Julia said. ‘He’s the one who picks me up every month when the latest attempt has failed and I know it’s not fair because he’s hurting too. I sometimes think he’d be better off without me.’ She took a deep breath and shook her head, already disagreeing with herself. ‘I won’t give up, but the longer we leave it, the older me – and more importantly – my eggs are getting.’
‘How long would you have to wait?’
Again Phoebe hadn’t offered the reassurance she needed and Julia felt the panic that had been building rise up in her chest, making her heart flutter. ‘I don’t know exactly, but if we wait until we’ve seen the consultant, had the tests, gone back for the results, we’re talking months.’
‘A few months won’t make that much difference, surely, and maybe, just maybe, something will happen without even trying. Nan had my mum when she was your age after years of trying.’
‘And that’s the point, Phoebe, I can’t not try. I just can’t. I’ve already decided I’m going to have to do it on my own.’
Phoebe stared at her. ‘What?’
Julia tried to smile but it was beyond her. ‘What I mean is, I’ll carry on doing what I’ve already been doing; taking the ovulation tests to work out when I’m most fertile and then luring Paul into bed.’
‘Very romantic.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s the problem. Sex hasn’t been romantic for quite some time,’ she said, until a more recent memory came to mind. ‘Although …’
Phoebe held up a hand in warning. ‘Oh no you don’t! I do not want to know the details, Julia.’
‘Excuse me, but let’s not forget that you saw my husband naked long before I did.’
The joke was an old one and Julia wasn’t sure why she should mention it now. It had been a long time since she had needed reassurance that there was nothing to fear from the past. When Paul had entered her life, Julia had been nursing a broken heart, but she hadn’t been the only one with a past. He had one too, and when the time had come to introduce her new boyfriend to her friends, she had known it would be difficult.
Helen and Phoebe had been intensely protective towards Julia, who had been jilted practically at the altar only the year before, and it was Helen whose approval she had gained first, albeit reluctantly. Whe
n the time came for Paul to meet Phoebe, however, her friend had been struck dumb.
‘Is there something we need to talk about?’ Julia had asked Phoebe afterwards.
‘What? No, nothing,’ Phoebe had said, her eyes wide but somehow managing to look anywhere except Julia’s face.
‘It’s all right, Phoebe. I know you’ve probably seen more of Paul than I have – yet.’
The wide eyes turned in Julia’s direction. ‘You do?’
‘Helen told me all about it.’
Phoebe and Paul had met a couple of years earlier when Paul had been between jobs and needed to raise some extra cash. A friend had suggested life modelling and, as much for a dare as anything, he had turned up at one of Phoebe’s night-school classes. Their paths had crossed only briefly because, soon afterwards, Phoebe’s nan had decided her granddaughter was having too good a time and had made her give up her classes. Julia hadn’t been a part of Phoebe’s life back then, it was Helen who had first become reacquainted with their old friend and she had told Julia all about her exploits.
‘Look, Phoebe, I’ve only had a handful of dates with him. If this is too weird then you only have to say so and I’ll end it here and now.’
‘You’d do that?’
‘Yes, I would,’ Julia had said and she had been sure of her answer while desperately hoping that Phoebe wouldn’t put her to the test.
‘But you don’t want to?’
‘No, I don’t. I know you and Helen think it’s too soon to get involved with someone else, but I really, really like him. I think Paul’s a keeper.’
‘Then keep him,’ Phoebe had said with the same intense blush that was burning her cheeks now.
‘Anyway,’ Julia said, realizing she had shared as much intimate detail about her sex life as Phoebe could bear, ‘isn’t it about time you got up close and personal with someone? It’s been what, three years since you split up with … what’s-his-name?’
‘What’s-his-name, exactly!’ Phoebe said as if Julia had answered her own question. ‘All my relationships are destined to be brief and meaningless. It’s too much like hard work for minimum return and besides, Nan’s keeping me busier than ever these days.’
‘How is she?’ Julia asked, letting the conversation slide. ‘Not burnt the house down yet?’
‘Oh, she’s not so bad. I suppose it could be worse.’
Phoebe had been devastated when her grandmother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s three years earlier and it was why she had dumped her then boyfriend, although Julia suspected she had used the diagnosis as an excuse to push away someone who was a potential threat to the mundane life she had become accustomed to with her nan. But things were going to change no matter how much Phoebe resisted.
‘She has the odd episode,’ Phoebe continued, wrapping the word in quote marks with her fingers, ‘but as long as I put everything she needs to know for the day on her reminder board, she can appear as sharp as she ever was. It’s more her physical decline that’s causing the problem.’
‘Her knee?’ Julia guessed.
‘Her doctor said that if she’d stuck to the physio after her operation, she would be fully mobile by now, but Theresa Dodd knows better. She still thinks rest is best and she won’t go out of the house unless she has to.’
‘It’s such a shame that you have a perfectly usable car parked in the drive and you can’t use it. Have you given any more thought to driving lessons?’
‘Have you seen how expensive they are? I’ve dropped a few hints to my nan to see if she’d help, but she didn’t take the bait. I don’t think she likes the idea of me driving. Too much freedom.’
‘Helen and I could buy you proper lessons as an early Christmas present.’
Phoebe shook her head. ‘I can’t let you do that. It’s fine, Julia, honestly.’
‘No, it’s not,’ Julia said, and if there was a fleeting moment when she felt uneasy making the next offer, she ignored it. ‘There’s nothing else for it. If you don’t want me teaching you then it’ll have to be Paul. I’ll send him over on Sunday afternoon. What time do you and your nan get home from all your errands?’
‘About one, but—’
‘Great, I’ll get Paul to put you on our insurance. Problem solved.’
‘But—’
‘Problem solved,’ Julia said as she shoved the last remnants of the muffin into her mouth. Her doctor had said she was a little underweight and she felt an additional sense of satisfaction as she left the table with nothing but crumbs. Whatever her husband might think, she was still working hard to reach their ultimate goal.
7
The Accident
Lucy tried to have an afternoon nap but nerves were getting the better of her. There had been some truth in what her sister had said about being too stubborn to back down. Her determination to go on holiday was as much about proving she had some control over her life as it was the simple pleasure of spending a few days relaxing by the pool and getting drunk on half a cocktail. If she wasn’t being so pig-headed, she might accept that the risks she was about to take were life-threatening. Something could go wrong and she would be thousands of miles from the two hospitals that were key to her survival – Broadgreen where she received her ongoing treatment and Wythenshawe where she might one day undergo a transplant if and when the call came.
Somehow Lucy did manage to doze off, but rather than golden beaches and blazing sun, she dreamt of the smoke that had enveloped the scene of the rail accident reported on the news. The drama was playing out to the rhythm of a strong and steady heartbeat, one that wouldn’t judder as hers did, when a series of shrill beeps from her mobile startled her into consciousness. Bleary-eyed, Lucy peered at the phone and, still half-asleep, was momentarily confused that it wasn’t a message from the transplant coordinator as her dream had prophesied. It was simply the airline company confirming her flight details.
Relaxing back onto her bed, Lucy stared up at the ceiling and wondered if the call would ever come. She summoned up an image of two lists in her mind, one containing the names of all the people waiting for a transplant, and on the other, those wonderful individuals who didn’t deserve to die but would be heroes when they did. The first list was so much longer than the second, and Lucy had no way of knowing if there was a line yet to connect her name to another. And if by some chance there was, she wished she could have just one chance to meet the person whose heart she would eventually be gifted for safekeeping.
8
Julia and Paul went to the gym at least three times a week and had been known to squeeze in extra sessions whenever they found themselves at a loose end. Their workouts were meant to help prime their bodies and give them the best chance of conceiving but it was one part of their lives that predated their present health regime.
Julia’s fitness obsession had begun ten years earlier when she had come dangerously close to falling into depression. It was shortly after her fiancé had jilted her and she had faced a choice: to remain in a dark world where she hated men and life in general, or to act – which was always going to be Julia’s preferred option. She had joined a gym where she soon met Paul, and although she had initially eyed him with suspicion, he had captured her heart and then mended it.
She supposed she could have settled into a contented life after they had married and cut back on her workouts, but she could never completely lose sight of the fact that Paul was five years younger. She needed to keep up with her training so she could keep up with him.
‘Fancy a bike race?’ Paul asked as they eyed up the equipment. The gym was relatively quiet for a Saturday morning, which was hardly surprising given it was a month before Christmas. They intended to make the most of the peace and quiet because come January, there would be hordes of new starters determined to keep to their New Year’s resolutions.
‘I was thinking more of a gentle stroll on the cross-trainer.’
‘Oh,’ Paul said, unable to hide his surprise. ‘It’s not like you to turn down a chall
enge.’
‘I’m following your advice about taking it easy for a while, and I think that should include gym sessions,’ she insisted, which was partly true. The doctor’s comment about her weight was still playing on her mind. She had presumed working out would keep her at peak fitness, but what if she had been pushing herself too hard? What if their healthy eating plan hadn’t provided sufficient fuel for strenuous exercise and that had been affecting her ability to conceive? She wanted to rebalance her ratio of energy consumed and expended and at the same time reassure Paul that she was taking his suggestion seriously. To reinforce his misconceptions, she narrowed her eyes when she added, ‘I thought you’d approve.’
Paul pulled the sports towel from his shoulder and draped it over the display panel on his cross-trainer. ‘All right then, a stroll it is.’
Julia started slowly and at first her husband matched her steady pace. She was looking straight ahead and concentrated on two members of staff who were chatting on the other side of the gym – it would seem it was a slow morning for everyone. From the corner of her eye she noticed Paul’s pace begin to creep up as he extended his reach as far as he could. His breathing had also become more intense while Julia had barely broken into a sweat. She suspected all his huffing and puffing was to exaggerate his efforts, to goad her into competing against him, but Julia continued to stretch muscles rather than burn energy.
‘Is that the best you can do?’ Paul asked after failing to get a reaction from her. ‘Come on, Julia, put some effort into it.’
‘This is not boot camp, Paul, and you are not my personal trainer. If you want a race why don’t you ask one of the staff?’
He slowed down and was quiet for a moment as he watched her. Julia’s eyes remained to the front. ‘Have I done something to upset you?’
‘No,’ Julia said in a sharp tone that gave away her true feelings. She was happy to take the pressure off Paul to perform, but what she couldn’t do was make her own anxieties disappear overnight. She hadn’t stopped wanting a baby and she was annoyed that Paul didn’t seem to be considering her feelings as much as she was his. He was familiar enough with her monthly cycle to know that they were reaching the point when they would normally be concentrating on nothing else except trying to conceive. Or was he? Paul had left it to her to take the initiative, to keep track of her hormones and announce when the time was right. Was she in this alone?
The Goodbye Gift Page 6
