Three Amazing Things About You

by Jill Mansell

  She removed her reading glasses and blinked in that intense bird-of-prey way of hers. ‘I’m leaving Carranford, leaving the surgery. Leaving the UK, in fact.’

  Crikey.

  ‘Wow,’ Luke said aloud.

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Jennifer waved her hand in a dismissive fashion. ‘I’m sure you’ll miss me terribly. Anyhow, you clearly need to know, which is why I’m telling you now. I’ve tendered my resignation and obviously need to work my three months’ notice. We’ll have to find a suitable replacement, of course.’

  ‘Of course,’ murmured Luke. A less terrifying one, with a bit of luck.

  ‘And by mid September I’ll be gone.’

  He was still struggling to take in the news. Somehow he’d assumed Jennifer would be here until the day she retired, efficient and soulless to the very last.

  ‘You haven’t asked me why,’ said Jennifer.

  ‘Sorry. Why?’

  ‘I’m sick and tired of having to deal with people who aren’t properly ill.’ She crossed her thin legs and shook her head. ‘Men complaining that they’re overweight but refusing to exercise or eat less. Parents bringing their children to me because they stay up past midnight playing computer games then can’t be bothered to get up for school. Women wanting me to refer them to cosmetic surgeons because they don’t like the way their jowls sag. And don’t even get me started on the ridiculous twenty-something girls wanting boob jobs and Botox.’

  ‘That’s not all of our patients, though,’ said Luke.

  ‘It’s enough of them to drive me to distraction.’ Jennifer pursed her lips. ‘Anyway, I’ve decided there’s more to life. To be honest, everyone talks about this village being such a friendly place to live, but I can’t say I agree; I haven’t found that at all. Half of the villagers are whingeing hypochondriacs and the rest just drink too much.’

  Was there any point in attempting to explain why she might not have made too many friends during her time here? Luke decided on balance there probably wasn’t.

  ‘So, you said you’re leaving the UK? Do you know where you’re going yet?’

  ‘Of course I know where I’m going, Luke. If I didn’t, I’d be a complete moron. Africa.’ Jennifer’s tone was crisp. ‘Specifically, Uganda. I’ve volunteered my services at a hospital there. Can’t wait. I’ll be using my skills to treat patients who genuinely need my help.’

  Luke’s phone buzzed to signal the arrival of a text, and he felt rather than saw Jennifer’s momentary eye-roll as he glanced at the screen: Hi, just put salmon in oven. Home soon? Also, don’t forget quiz tonight – we’re teamed up with Bea and Hallie! Xx

  It was Christina, waiting for him at the cottage. The mention of Hallie and Bea gave him a jolt.

  ‘Well, you’re obviously busy.’ Straightening a pile of papers on her desk, Jennifer continued, ‘Anyway, now you know what’s going to be happening. Please don’t mention it to anyone else at the moment – there’s no need for it to become public knowledge just yet. And another thing, when the time does come, I really don’t want one of those ghastly surprise leaving parties.’

  ‘Right, got it. I won’t let that happen.’ Luke nodded seriously and somehow managed to sound sincere. ‘But well done on the voluntary work. It sounds very worthwhile.’

  ‘I’ll be making a real difference,’ Jennifer agreed. ‘Treating the Ugandans and educating them in health matters.’

  She would too; she was a fine doctor. Luke said, ‘Good for you.’

  And good luck to everyone in Uganda.

  Chapter 43

  The Tiffany ring had been tight before. Now, just ten days later, it was loose. Tasha turned it around and around her finger, counting the number of times the diamond reappeared. It wasn’t as sparkly as it had been. She took it off and held it up, viewing it against the background of the fluorescent ceiling light.

  ‘Everything OK?’ said the nurse.

  ‘It used to be sparklier than this. It’s gone all dull.’

  The nurse pointed to the antiseptic hand gel dispenser. ‘That’s what’s done it, endlessly putting that gunky stuff on your hands. Give it a good scrub with detergent and an old toothbrush and it’ll be as good as new in no time.’

  As good as new in no time. If only they could say the same about Rory. Tasha swallowed and leaned forward in her chair to study his half-closed eyes, those beautiful light green irises and the long dark lashes she loved so much.

  Except it was unfair to single out the eyes; she loved every aspect of Rory, every last detail of him. From his toes to his shoulders to his ear lobes to the silky-soft skin on the insides of his wrists . . . she loved all of him.

  Reaching for his hand and easing her fingers between his, she gave them a squeeze and felt the tiniest squeeze in return. Just at the moment it was all he could manage, the limit of his strength. Dear God.

  It still seemed completely unbelievable that this could happen to someone like Rory. After a lifetime of daredevil antics and deliberate risk-taking, how was it possible that a tiny, microscopic virus could lead to a situation like this?

  But it had. The bug had turned out to be real flu after all, then niggling discomfort in Rory’s ribcage had grown into severe chest pain and breathlessness. Always super-fit, he’d become too exhausted to take more than a few steps at a time. By the time Tasha had succeeded in persuading him – typical man – to see his GP, the virus had worsened and so had the chest pains. Urgent admission to hospital had followed and the diagnosis had been made.

  Most people caught viruses and felt a bit unwell for a few days, then the body’s wonderful immune system magically dealt with the virus and everything returned to normal. But in Rory’s case, the virus had ruthlessly attacked his heart muscle. It was a rare complication, but it occasionally happened and he’d been one of the unlucky ones.

  Rory had myocarditis, and not the mild kind. His signs and symptoms were severe, including a fast, irregular heartbeat, tiredness, shortness of breath and pyrexia. Following admission to hospital, he’d undergone a torrent of chest X-rays and blood tests, an echocardiogram, ECGs, and an endomyocardial biopsy. As the results had come in, the medical staff’s expressions had grown more sombre. This was serious, far more so than they’d initially thought.

  And it just kept on happening, like the worst kind of nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. Tasha, desperate to lean on Rory for support, had to manage on her own, because Rory was so ill it was as much as he could do to lie there in the bed and carry on breathing. Pain medication and sedation meant that most of the time he didn’t have the energy to speak. His body was covered in wires and tubes, and surrounded by hospital machinery. Other people in the cardiac ward were similarly accessorised; some awake, some not. Most of them were older than Rory.

  And then there were the hospital staff, all incredibly hard-working and kind. They explained everything they were doing and encouraged Tasha to take regular breaks and look after herself. They were lovely, but the one thing they couldn’t do was promise her that everything would be fine and Rory would make a full recovery.

  Which was really the only thing she wanted to hear.

  Tasha swallowed; it wasn’t only her who wanted to hear it. Everyone who knew Rory was willing him to get better. His parents might be dead, but his Aunt Mel, the one who had broken her leg just before Christmas, was beside herself and visiting daily. As was Joe, who had been an absolute rock and would be here again – she checked her watch – any minute now. Initially the staff had been reluctant to allow him on to the unit, until Joe had said with feeling, ‘You let brothers in? Well, we’re more than that; we’re closer than any brothers. You have to let me see him.’

  Truthfully, she didn’t know what she would have done without Joe. His support meant so much. Her mother was always there at the end of the phone, but the many animals she cared for at her home in France, with no one else available to look after them in her absence, meant she was unable to fly over to be with her during this horrible time.
/>   And here was Joe now, being buzzed into the ward, washing his hands in the sink next to the entrance, then drying them and cleaning them again with a squirt of alcohol gel. There were whole new routines to learn in a hospital, that seemed weird to begin with but within days became unthinking second nature. You didn’t take any chances when one slip could be fatal.

  Then Joe was giving her a brief hug and Tasha breathed in the clean outdoors smell of him.

  ‘How’s he doing?’

  ‘I don’t know. Same, I think. Sometimes the heart thing gets more irregular.’ She pointed to the electronic readout on the machine opposite them. ‘They’re waiting for more test results before they decide what to do next.’

  Joe nodded and clasped his big hand around Rory’s wrist. ‘Hey, it’s me. I’m here with Tash. Are you awake?’

  After a couple of seconds Rory nodded, just slightly.

  ‘You OK?’ Joe kept his gaze fixed on his friend’s face.

  They waited, then Rory licked his lips and whispered, ‘Never better.’

  ‘You’ll be out of here soon. I’m going to take you heli-skiing,’ said Joe. But this time there was no response; Rory had drifted off once more.

  In all the times she’d seen the two of them together, the laughter and joking around had been virtually non-stop. Now it was absent. Joe had never looked more serious. Tasha watched the muscles tighten in his jaw as he stroked Rory’s forearm with the backs of his fingers, silently letting him know he was still there.

  ‘Have you eaten anything?’ said Joe.

  She shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘You really should, you know.’

  ‘I can’t. Not at the moment.’ The irony of having jokily vowed to diet in order to make the engagement ring fit wasn’t lost on her. She’d lost eight pounds since then, through sheer panic and inability to swallow food. For now, she was existing on coffee from the vending machine outside the unit.

  ‘You need to keep your strength up.’

  Tasha shrugged helplessly. What strength?

  ‘He’s right.’ The nurse was back to do Rory’s observations. ‘You need to eat. Keeling over in a heap isn’t going to help anyone.’

  ‘Come on,’ said Joe. ‘I’m taking you to the café.’ He reached for Tasha’s hand and stood up. ‘We’ll be back in half an hour.’

  ‘Good idea.’ The nurse, who was probably sick of the sight of her, beamed encouragingly. ‘You do that.’

  Chapter 44

  ‘What’s going to happen to him? Is he going to start getting better soon?’

  ‘I don’t know the answer to that,’ said Joe. ‘Nobody knows the answer.’

  ‘Oh God.’ They sat facing each other across the orange Formica-topped table in the hospital cafeteria. Tasha picked up a chip, dipped it into mayonnaise and attempted to summon the enthusiasm to eat it.

  ‘Are you sleeping?’

  ‘Not really. I wish I could just . . . take out my batteries and wake up twelve hours later.’

  Joe said, ‘You could ask for a couple of pills to help you with that.’

  ‘But I don’t want to miss anything important. What if something happened while I was asleep?’

  He nodded to show he understood. ‘I know. Same. You’re being very strong, though.’

  ‘I don’t feel strong.’

  ‘You’re doing so well.’ He paused. ‘I haven’t seen you cry yet.’

  Tasha shook her head. It simply hadn’t happened, not even when she was at home. All her efforts were taken up with concentrating on getting Rory well again. Breaking down in tears might detract from that.

  Besides, she had to be there for him. Stay strong.

  ‘I’m not much of a one for the soppy comments,’ said Joe, ‘but he loves you so much. He really does.’

  Tasha nodded. ‘I know. I love him too.’

  ‘Are you going to eat any more of these?’ Joe nudged the plate towards her.

  It was the last thing she wanted to do. But he was right: Rory needed her and she in turn needed – somehow – to keep on going. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she braced herself and picked up another chip. It didn’t matter that they didn’t taste great. She looked at Joe. ‘Oh yes. I’m going to eat them all.’

  Returning to the unit, they found Mel there, sitting beside Rory’s bed. She jumped up and met them at the entrance. Since the staff preferred there to be no more than two visitors at any one time, Joe said, ‘I’ll head off and come back later.’

  ‘No, don’t. The consultant just called the ward to ask if we were all here. He wants us to wait and he’ll see us as soon as he arrives. They’re expecting him at around five o’clock.’

  ‘Why does he want to talk to us?’ said Joe.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Is it good news or bad news?’ The moment she’d uttered the question, Tasha wished she hadn’t. She felt a surge of nausea.

  ‘Oh darling, I don’t know.’ Mel’s face was drawn with worry. ‘We’ll just have to wait and see.’

  For the next hour Tasha talked to Rory, holding his hand, trying to persuade herself that he was looking better.

  Except he wasn’t, she knew he wasn’t. Just as she knew that the consultant cardiologist was unlikely to have phoned ahead and asked the three of them to wait so he could personally inform them Rory had turned a corner and was on the mend.

  Basically, there had to be a perk to the job, but she doubted it was that.

  The clock on the wall, typically, had slowed right down now. Five o’clock came and went, each minute passing with interminable slowness. Was it her imagination, or were the nursing staff avoiding her gaze? Did they know more than they were letting on?

  Oh God, oh God.

  At five forty-three, the consultant swept into the unit and Tasha’s knees began to judder with fear. She pressed them together and straightened her spine. Surely whatever it was he had to say couldn’t be too bad, could it?

  ‘Hello, hello, so sorry to keep you waiting. Traffic was awful.’ Dr White had kind eyes, a long bumpy nose and an air of calm authority about him. He shook hands with each of them in turn. ‘We have the latest test results in and I’d like to discuss the situation with you.’ Glancing over at Rory, whose eyes were closed but who could still be listening, he beckoned to them. ‘If you’ll follow me, we can talk about it in the office.’

  ‘I just can’t believe it,’ said Carmel two hours later, back at Tasha’s flat. ‘I mean, Rory. Of all people.’

  ‘I know.’ Dr White and the nurses had insisted she leave the hospital and come home to get some sleep. Tasha couldn’t imagine sleeping, but she’d known they were right. As with the eating, she had to keep herself as healthy as possible in order to support Rory.

  She’d let Joe drive her back here, and Carmel had arrived shortly afterwards. If Rory’s condition altered during the night, the staff had promised to phone straight away and let them know.

  It felt odd, being at home. Then again, everything felt odd; normality had ceased to exist. Tasha counted the ways:

  There was a glass of red wine on the coffee table in front of her and she had no desire to touch it.

  She’d just received a text begging her to fly to Barcelona to work on a video shoot starring one of the world’s most mega-successful female singers and had turned the job down without a second thought.

  Oh, and Rory’s heart was failing. His other organs were starting to shut down. His condition had deteriorated to such an extent that he was now on the list for a heart transplant.

  Really and truly. An actual heart transplant.

  Most horrifying of all, this was actually the best-case scenario. Because if he didn’t get a heart transplant, he would die.

  ‘You’re not going to drink this wine, are you?’ Carmel picked up the glass to take it back out to the kitchen. Evidently desperate to help, she said, ‘Tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you.’

  I want a new heart for Rory.

  But they already kne
w that, and saying it wouldn’t help anyone. Tasha forced herself to consider the realistic options. ‘I think there’s a tin of custard in the top cupboard. Could I have some of that?’ She was almost certain she could manage a small bowl of custard.

  Carmel nodded. ‘Cold or warm?’

  ‘Warm. Please.’ She’d loved tinned custard as a child, had never tired of it.

  ‘Joe? Anything for you?’

  He shook his head. ‘No thanks, I’m OK.’

  Watching them reminded Tasha of the first night Joe and Carmel had met, of the way they’d taunted and teased each other. The next moment, with vivid clarity, she remembered Joe assuring a suspicious Carmel that Rory wasn’t a player, that he was genuinely smitten with Tasha. Whereupon Carmel, defending her oldest friend, had warned him, ‘If he gives her any grief, he’ll have me to answer to.’

  And Rory, with his arms around Tasha and his breath warm against the side of her face, had murmured in her ear, ‘I wasn’t planning on giving you any grief.’

  Which had made her shiver with delight.

  Except he hadn’t stuck to that plan, had he? This was more grief than she’d ever expected.

  Tasha silently marvelled at the vicissitudes of fate. After all these years of expecting the worst to happen, now it had.

  And since crumbling wasn’t an option, all she could do was face it head on and deal with the situation as best she could.

  Chapter 45

  ‘This must be what it’s like being famous,’ said Zander out of the corner of his mouth. ‘Everywhere I look, people are staring at me. I feel like Brad Pitt.’

  Flo grinned, because it was true: he was definitely the centre of attention here today. And when old people were interested in someone, they didn’t bother making any secret of it.

  ‘They’ve been waiting months for this, ever since they first heard about you. Sorry they aren’t being terribly discreet.’

  ‘It’s OK. You did warn me.’

  ‘They don’t get out much. And they do love to gossip. You’re big news.’