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Thirty-Two

“The bloody doctor clearly has no bloody idea about bloody anything.”

I followed my mum who, despite a rather painful varicose vain problem in her right leg, still managed to storm through the hospital reception area pretty fast.

“April! Bloody April! I have to wait till then, can you believe it?”

“Nope, I can’t bloody believe it.”

“Don’t mock, Ellie,” Mum, snapped.

“I’m sorry, but can we please get something to eat, I’m starving.”

“I thought we were going to go to that place you liked?”

I stepped closer to Mum, accentuating the words so she clearly understood my desperation.

“If I don’t get something to eat I am going to bloody faint.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Ellie, no need to be so dramatic.”

Mum walked away, leaving me and my incredulous open mouth to follow.

Me? The dramatic one?

“And stop trying to catch flies,” she called over her shoulder, leading the way to the hospital cafeteria. It wasn’t exactly a flash city luncheon, but don’t be fooled. They had a mean butter chicken in the bain-marie.

Mum winced in pain, taking her chair. I actually felt really sorry for her; her whole existence seemed to be waiting lists and specialist appointments.

If it wasn’t her tennis elbow, it was gallstones; she really had been in the wars during the past eighteen months.

It was one of the greater reasons I delayed moving away from Onslow.

I checked my phone for the millionth time, hoping that Tess would have gotten back to me by now. I had left a rather sooky message on her phone last night in a desperate bid to find out what had been wrong with Adam, if she had known anything.

“Ellie, how many times do I have to tell you? Put it away.”

It was one of my mum’s absolute pet hates in life, for me to be texting during our time together. It was one of her rules, among many.

I sighed, pocketing my phone. “So, food. What do you want? I’ll get you something.”

Mum sighed some more, like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.

“What’s that orange stuff?”

“Butter chicken.”

“Is it hot?”

“No, not overly, you get rice with it.”

“Oh, okay, well, I’ll have soup then, and a water. Make sure it’s from the back of the fridge, it will be colder.”

I sighed; come to think of it, perhaps Mum was one of the bigger reasons why I did move away.

“Coming up.”

I slid my tray along the bench. Was it wrong to feel so giddy about bain-marie food? I could feel my mouth salivating at the mere passive steam that drifted my way. Who needed five-star dining?

“Here you go, pumpkin soup and the coldest of cold waters,” I announced, sliding the goods off my tray and setting them before Mum, who didn’t seem very interested in all the hard work I had done to shove my arm right to the back of the fridge for her.

I frowned, irritated by how distracted she seemed as she stared into the distance.

“What are you looking at?” I asked, starting to get really annoyed.

I followed her eyeline, trying to see who she was spying on and hoping she wasn’t being rude; honestly, Mum could really be like a kid in a high chair sometimes, she just didn’t care who she stared at.

“Is that … Kerry? Kerry Henderson?” she asked.

The moment the words tumbled out of Mum’s mouth I knew exactly who she was talking about.

Adam’s mum stood at reception, her hair shortly cropped and dark like her sons.

She wore jeans and a fitted pink cardi set that kind of made her look washed out.

It was the first time I’d seen her since I found out she was sick.

I really wanted to go and put my arms around her and hug her so tight.

Kerry had been like an adoptive mum to me, always dropping me off or picking me up from somewhere whenever my parents couldn’t.

She was always the best movie night organiser, putting on spreads in the family rumpus room and checking if we needed anything to eat or drink.

You would never go hungry or unnoticed at the Henderson house.

“She must be here for treatment,” I said, mainly to myself.

“I’m gonna go say hi,” I said to Mum, and just before I could put down my tray something caught my eye.

The automatic hospital door opened, and in walked Adam, car keys in hand, shades flipped back.

Kerry turned around as he approached and smiled.

Right before my butter chicken slid off my tray and went smashing to the bleach-white hospital floor, causing them both to turn and look my way.

There was no time to be embarrassed, or to worry greatly about the orange splatter that ran up my legs, or the cries of dismay from my mum who wanted to die a thousand deaths rather than be anywhere near me right now.

I looked at it as an opportune moment to tear my eyes away from the likes of Adam’s shocked expression.

All I could do was apologise frantically to the poor lunch lady who was on disaster control with her cloth.

“I am so, so sorry,” I kept repeating, but she seemed in good spirits about it, like she had seen this sort of thing a million times before.

Just when I thought the situation couldn’t get much worse two sets of feet stopped in my peripheral vision.

“Ellie? What are you doing here?”

I looked up to see Kerry Henderson smiling down at me, her eyes narrowed in confusion as if I was the last person she expected to see. My eyes shifted to Adam next to her, who looked on all stony and serious.

Yeah, well, she wasn’t the only one surprised.

Despite all the questions that were whirling around in my head, I managed to stand and do the one thing I promised I would do. I stepped forward, dodging the curry sauce, and wrapped my arms around Kerry. Feeling her tiny frame under my arms, I wanted to hug her so much tighter than I dared.

I stepped away, blanching as I looked down at the mess I had created that was now smeared in circles as the cafeteria lady went back to the kitchen to get a fresh cloth.

“Lucky I never spilt anything like this on your beige carpet, Kerry,” I said, eliciting a laugh from her.

“No, just red cordial.”

I cringed. “That was me, huh?”

“Oh, I still love you. Kind of makes me smile every time I walk past it. So what are you ladies doing here?”

“I came to see the specialist,” Mum began. “But I am on the waiting list until April; April, can you believe it?”

“Oh no,” Kerry said, sincerely dismayed.

I kind of zoned out of the exchange of my mum’s medical dramas as I simply squared off with Adam, looking straight into his eyes.

Barely believing he had lied to me about going away for the weekend; instead, he was here, in Maitland.

Had he not wanted to see me? I broke away from his serious gaze, listening in on the end of our mums’ conversation.

“Did you hear that, Ellie? Kerry’s responding to treatment.”

“Really?”

Kerry nodded.

“Oh my God, that’s fantastic,” I said, hugging her once more.

“Yes, well, one day at a time, but the doctors are really pleased with how it’s going.”

I nodded like a fool, because I could feel, despite all my efforts, the tears welling in my eyes. I was so relieved, so happy to hear such great news, but equally as devastated about Adam refusing to even meet my eyes.

“I can’t tell you how happy this makes me, Kerry.”

Kerry smiled, squeezing my hand.

I took in a deep, steadying breath, overwhelmed and suddenly feeling closed in.

“Look, Mum, I better make sure our car hasn’t been towed.”

“What?”

“Yeah, remember the signage was pretty dodgy; the council are pretty fierce around Maitland.”

“Oh God, maybe we better go, I don’t want to risk it.”

“Okay, well, if you get your lunch to go, I’ll bring the car around,” I said quickly, desperate for an exit.

“We better get going too,” said Kerry. “Aw, Ellie, it’s so good to see you. Next time you’re back in Onslow drop in and say hello.”

My eyes flickered to Adam, who still managed not to even say a word.

“I will,” I said, before heading for the door.

It was like everything around me was in slow motion.

I felt numb as I walked through the automatic doors, the fresh air hitting my face and stinging my eyes.

I blinked, causing my vision to blur. I was aware of the rise and fall of my chest and no matter how much time passed, Adam hadn’t followed.

He hadn’t run after me, screaming my name and telling me to wait, that I had gotten it all wrong.

There was nothing. He was nowhere to be seen.

As I walked up the long, sloping hill toward where our car was parked, the silence was broken by the buzzing in my pocket as my mobile chimed, alerting me of a text message, causing me to still in my tracks.

Clumsily foraging in my jeans pocket, I pulled out my phone, my heart thumping with the hope that ‘Adam’ was displayed across the screen; instead, my brows lowered as I read:

Tess

1 Message.

Ellie, you better call me, right NOW!