by Zoe Cook
The bacon sandwich really helped Lucy’s hangover and Kristian seemed to be coming back to life too after his huge cooked breakfast. Lucy had never seen one person eat so much food. Molly cleared their table, still looking fraught; there was no sign of Tara and she still hadn’t answered her phone. Lucy, with her renewed enthusiasm for the day, offered to help Molly out in the café, which was heaving now.
‘I called Jen,’ Molly said. ‘She’s coming in, so you don’t need to work, but thanks, Lucy,’
‘Oh, okay,’ Lucy said. ‘I think I’m going to walk up to Tara’s, then, just to check she’s okay.’
‘Yeah, I’ll come with you,’ Kristian said. Lucy was surprised by how concerned he seemed. She hadn’t realised he was close to Tara. Perhaps he knew her story; Tom may well have told him everything.
As they walked through the town Kristian told Lucy about his job in Bristol, about their new house, about their favourite Thai restaurant. Lucy felt the fondness for Kristian that she’d had since they first met in a maths class at school, when he’d sat down next to her, all floppy hair and big eyes, flustered because he hadn’t done his homework. Lucy had let him copy hers over the course of the lesson; by the end of class he had homework to hand in and she had a new friend. It was Kristian who had introduced Lucy to Tom, they’d been friends since primary school. Lucy remembered the first times they’d all hung out together, so young, all the funny things they’d done together. They’d loved going on long bike rides out into the country; she remembered one that had ended with them finding a fun fair, its neon lights glowing in the distance – they’d been drawn to it like moths. She thought about them eating candyfloss, riding the dodgems, every memory seemed to have a soundtrack of laughter.
‘How about you?’ Kristian asked,
‘What about me?’
‘London, here, Tom, what’s the plan?’
Lucy smiled at Kristian’s straightforwardness – it was something she’d always liked about him.
‘I really don’t know,’ she said.
‘But you can’t just go back now, not with Tom down here.’
‘It’s not that simple, though. I’ve got a job to think about, a flat. I can’t just leave it all behind. I’ve worked for five years to make something of myself up there. When everyone told me to go to uni and I decided to work in telly instead, so many people thought I was making such a big mistake. But I’ve done alright. I’ve got a decent job at a good company. If I stick it out I could really make something of myself.’ Lucy found herself speaking too fast.
‘I know, I get it, Luce,’ Kristian said. ‘But is that really what you want? Is that how you’re going to measure success? Because, to be honest, when you turned up down here a month ago, you looked totally destroyed. If that’s what success looks like then I think you need your head checked.’
Lucy felt like she might cry. She knew he was right. But it wasn’t that simple. Nothing ever was, was it? What could she do down here? She didn’t want to be a full- time waitress. And what was to say things were going to work out with Tom anyway. It felt right now, but that might change. What if it was just the emotion of being back here, of it all being temporary? What if Tom didn’t actually love her, just loved the idea of her, loved his memory of eighteen-year-old Lucy? She pictured their old house, sitting at the top of the hill, empty, all those memories she’d locked away for so long. Could she really come back here and walk among them all again? She thought about what Claire would say. She’d probably encourage her to stay, she thought. But Claire hadn’t been back here either, so what did she know? She’d run away too, built herself a life in London, so why couldn’t Lucy do the same? Why did everyone have to act like she’d fucked everything up and needed to return to Cornwall to recover? Things weren’t all bad in London; she’d done alright for herself.
‘There’s no answer,’ Kristian said, ringing Tara’s buzzer for the third time.
‘Do you think we should walk around the back? See if we can look through the window?’ Lucy didn’t know what she expected to see through Tara’s window, but it seemed worth a shot.
They walked around the large white building and Kristian pointed out Tara’s living- room window. The blinds were open and a light was on.
‘It’s open,’ Kristian said. ‘I think she’s in there. Hang on.’ He walked over to the gravel boundary to the garden and picked up a handful of stones. He began throwing them at the window and shouting Tara’s name. Lucy still couldn’t quite believe Kristian’s concern for Tara. ‘Is there a reason you’re so worried?’ she asked. ‘Do you think it’s something to do with her ex?’
‘I hope not. She’s just had a rough time of it, before she came here, some not very nice people around her, you know. TARA!’ Before she could ask him any more, a voice called back.
‘Kristian? Okay, okay, I’m here. Stop throwing things, will you?’
‘Can you buzz us in, please, Tara. I’m worried,’ he called back to her.
‘Us?’
‘Yes, I’m here with Lucy’.
‘Oh, for God’s sake! Alright, I’ll buzz you in.’
They walked back around to the main door. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ Lucy wondered out loud. ‘How did you know she was in there?’
‘She never leaves the window open, not unless she’s in there,’ he replied, seriously. Lucy realised they must all have been more worried for Tara than she’d appreciated. Even Kristian seemed to be taking this ex situation seriously.
The door buzzed open and Lucy and Kristian climbed the stairs to Tara’s front door. It opened and Tara stood in her hallway. Her face was covered in scratches, her left eye socket purple and swollen.
‘Oh my God,’ Kristian rushed in ahead of Lucy and held Tara by the shoulders. ‘What happened? Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ Tara insisted, shrugging Kristian off. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks.’
‘Who did this to you?’ Lucy was shocked by the sight of Tara, her pretty face disfigured with violence like this.
‘Annabel,’ Tara said, sounding embarrassed.
‘What the hell?’ Kristian replied. ‘Annabel Carmichael?’
‘Yep, pathetic isn’t it? A proper girly fight. She pulled my hair and everything,’ Tara said, trying to smile, running her hands through her hair. Lucy recognised that she was in pain, she looked so sad.
‘Why?’ she said, stepping towards Tara, putting an arm out to hers, rubbing her shoulder gently. ‘What happened?’
‘She caught me and Olly,’ Tara said, quietly. ‘We didn’t realise anyone else was around. We were in the storeroom.’
‘Olly?’ Kristian said, puzzled. ‘You and Olly are a thing?’ He was smiling now.
‘Yes, we didn’t want anyone to know,’ Tara said, looking at Lucy. ‘Annabel’s his ex and she’s a fucking psycho. And anyway, this whole bloody town is so gossipy, we didn’t want everyone talking about us, judging us, waiting for us to break up.’
Lucy couldn’t believe what she was hearing; all that time she’d thought Tara had feelings for Tom she’d been wrong.
‘I couldn’t face coming in to work looking like this,’ she said. ‘I should’ve called. I did text Molly, but her signal’s terrible down there, did she not get it?’
‘No,’ Lucy replied. ‘No one knew where you were. We were worried.’
‘I’m really sorry,’ Tara looked mortified. ‘I didn’t really know what to do.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Kristian said. ‘As long as you’re okay. I’d started to worry, you know.’
Lucy looked at Kristian, then over to Tara, who looked embarrassed. ‘I know, I should’ve thought it through. I didn’t think what it would look like to you. I’m so sorry. Please tell me you haven’t mentioned it to Tom. You know what he’s like about it all. And anyway, I actually heard from a friend back in Exeter, my ex is repping in some holiday resort in Spain. He’s long gone.’
‘Thank God for that,’ Kristian said. ‘And no, we ha
ven’t told Tom. You’re alright, that’s all that matters.’
‘How badly did Annabel come off, by the way? Does she look as terrible as you?’
‘Oh God,’ Tara groaned. ‘It was a pathetic scene. She waited until Olly had gone, ‘til I was on my own. She bloody pounced on me. I didn’t see her coming. She’s mental!’
Lucy struggled to picture Annabel behaving like that, but girls could be crazy when boys came into it.
‘Shall I stick the kettle on?’ Tara asked. Lucy and Kristian agreed to stay for tea.
‘Make me a cup too, mate, will you?’ Olly appeared from the bedroom, grinning as usual, seemingly untouched by either his hangover or the situation with Annabel. Lucy noticed his shorts; bright, neon surf shorts. The same as Tom’s, the ones she’d seen Tara tangled up in a passionate embrace with behind the café that day.
Of course she’s with Olly, she thought, and it all started clicking into place. Kristian’s phone rang and he stood to retrieve it from his back pocket.
‘Hello?’ He answered, as if he hadn’t recognised the number calling him.
‘Yes, that’s me.’
‘From where?’ He walked closer to the window, as if trying to get better reception.
‘Oh my God.’ His face dropped, startled by the tone of Kristian’s voice.
Tara came back in with a plate of mugs and biscuits, but she froze at the sight of Kristian on the phone, holding the tray in mid-air.
‘Yes, okay, I’ll come now. I’ll be half an hour.’ He sounded efficient now, business-like. He hung up the phone.
‘Who was that?’ Lucy asked
‘It was the hospital,’ Kristian said. All the colour had drained from his face and his phone was still outstretched in front of him.
‘Oh my God – Nina,’ Lucy said, her heart racing as she remembered, guiltily, the pain she’d seen her in last night. She’d known that something wasn’t right. She was standing now, walking to Kristian.
‘Collapsed,’ Kristian said, to the window. ‘Just collapsed on the cliff path. They had to send the air ambulance.’
‘Is she okay?’ Lucy asked, frantically. It felt as though her heart might stop. ‘Is she going to be okay?’
Kristian didn’t answer. ‘What?’ he replied, after what felt like minutes of silence. ‘It’s not Nina,’ he said, looking confused.
‘It’s Tom.’
36
Tara sprung into action as Lucy fell apart. The news that Tom had collapsed was too much to take in. She couldn’t understand it. Tara offered to drive them to the hospital. She picked up Lucy’s handbag from the floor on the way out and put it in the car next to her.
‘What happened?’ Lucy asked Kristian.
‘I don’t know, they didn’t say. They just said he’d collapsed on the cliff path and had been airlifted to hospital. He’s in intensive care.’
‘Intensive care?’ Tara asked, as she accelerated away from the apartment building. ‘Are you sure that’s what they said?’
‘I’m pretty sure,’ Kristian said quietly.
‘Oh my God,’ Lucy repeated herself over and over. ‘Oh my God.’
They drove in silence the rest of the way to the hospital. Tara dropped them at the main entrance and went to park the car. ‘I’ll find you,’ she said before she drove away.
Lucy asked at reception and was directed to the third floor. She and Kristian walked quickly, close together. In the lift, Lucy was overcome with emotion and the tears fell. Kristian grabbed her quickly, to hold her against his chest.
‘He’ll be okay, he’ll be okay,’ he said, as if convincing himself.
Lucy tried to pull herself together; the last thing anyone needed was her tears. The lift doors opened and she could see Nina sitting on a plastic chair halfway down the grey and beige corridor. That hospital smell hit the back of her throat. Bleach and fear.
‘Are you alright?’ Kristian said, almost running to Nina, grabbing her and kissing her head, holding her tightly. Lucy felt suddenly, painfully lonely.
Nina took her hand and pulled her towards the two of them and they stood for a moment, a strange trio of confused, panicked faces.
‘What happened?’ Lucy asked.
‘We were walking,’ Nina said, her voice shaking. ‘We’d walked miles. We were nearly at the Packhorse in Saltheart. We were going to get some lunch. Tom wanted a ploughman’s. He just stopped walking. I didn’t realise right away. I carried on walking, and then I saw that he wasn’t there. I looked back and he was just frozen on the spot. He looked so pale. I called to him, asked if he was okay and he just dropped to the ground. I ran. I ran to him and tried to wake him up and there was just nothing.’ Nina was crying now, big heavy tears rolling down her pale face. Kristian stroked her hair lovingly.
‘He wouldn’t respond. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have my phone. There was an old couple on a bench behind us, they must have seen what happened, and the man came over, offered to call an ambulance. I just sat on the floor and tried to talk to him, tried to get him back. There was just nothing, nothing. I didn’t even know if he was breathing.’
‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ Kristian said, trying to slow her down. Nina was becoming increasingly upset as she spoke. Kristian looked fraught too, the seriousness of the situation sinking in.
Tara appeared from the lift and walked towards the group. ‘Where is he?’ she asked. She looked like she had been crying.
‘He’s in there,’ Nina said, pointing to a closed door, ‘I haven’t seen him since they took him in there.’
‘Excuse me,’ Tara stopped a nurse walking past. ‘We’re here with Thomas Barton, he’s in there, and we need someone to tell us what’s going on.’
‘Of course,’ the nurse looked sympathetically at the group. ‘I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, why don’t you take a seat in the family room? There’s a tea and coffee machine in there.’
She directed them down the corridor, to a room fitted out with tasteful sofas and inoffensive neutral prints on the wall. Lucy knew it was a room designed to calm, a bad-news room. It sent a chill through her.
After what felt like hours, a middle-aged nurse with dark hair and a kind face opened the door and stood in front of the group, who were gathered on the sofas drinking tea from plastic cups.
‘He’s awake,’ she said. ‘You can see him now.’
‘What happened?’ Kristian asked.
‘I’ll let Thomas explain,’ the nurse said.
‘Tom,’ Lucy corrected her, without thinking.
‘Sorry, Tom,’ the nurse said. ‘He’s still weak, so please be gentle with him.’
‘Of course,’ Tara said. ‘Is Dr Jenkins here?’
‘He’s on his way. He’ll be here this evening at the latest,’ the nurse said.
‘Who’s Dr Jenkins?’ Nina asked, turning to Tara.
‘He’s Tom’s consultant,’ she replied.
Lucy’s mind spun and she felt sick, as if something dark was settling among them.
‘Why does Tom have a consultant?’ It sounded to Lucy as if the words were coming from someone else, as if she was floating up into the corner of the room and observing the scene from outside herself.
‘I can’t – I need Tom to tell you,’ Tara said, visibly upset now.
In his hospital bed, Tom was propped up slightly on pillows. A drip was hooked up to his arm, its plastic bag emptying slowly into his bloodstream. An assortment of monitors bleeped softly. Lucy walked in first. He smiled at her.
‘Tom,’ she said, choking on tears at the sight of him like this, he looked so frail.
‘Luce,’ he reached out to her, and she took his hand in both of hers, kissing it softly.
‘I’m fine,’ he said, ridiculously.
‘You collapsed,’ Nina said, sadly, ‘You’re not fine.’
‘What’s going on, mate?’ Kristian said, joining them at his bedside. ‘You’ve given us one hell of a fright.’ Lucy could hear that he was trying to sound
light-hearted. ‘Tara,’ Tom said, noticing her at the back of the group. ‘What’s happened to your face? Are you okay?’
‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘It’s nothing. You need to tell them, Tom. You should’ve told them before now.’
‘Tell them what?’ Lucy said, her heart sinking into her stomach. ‘Tell us what, Tom?’
The silence in the room made Lucy feel sick as she stood waiting for his reply, her hands clammy, her throat drying up.
‘I’m ill,’ Tom said, simply.
‘What do you mean, ‘ill’?’ Lucy asked. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’ve been ill for a long time,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to tell you.’
‘What?’ Lucy couldn’t take in what he was saying. ‘What’s wrong, Tom, what is it?’
‘It’s a primary brain tumour,’ he said, without emotion.
Lucy felt her legs weaken. ‘A brain tumour?’ she repeated. She heard Tara begin to cry quietly behind her.
‘What are you talking about?’ Nina asked, sounding almost angry. ‘You don’t have a brain tumour. What the hell are you on about, Tom?’
‘I’m sorry, I should have told you all before now,’ he said, without looking at any of them. ‘I didn’t want to ruin everything. I just wanted it to be like old times. I didn’t want to be the ill one.’
‘What do you mean?’ Lucy said. ‘What are they doing about it? Is that why you collapsed? What treatment are you having?’
As Tom looked the other way. It felt like Lucy’s heart was breaking into pieces. She stifled her tears; she felt like she could scream. This just didn’t make any sense.
‘There is no treatment,’ Tara said, breaking the silence. ‘He’s stopped treatment.’
