‘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 knew 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.’
‘Afternoon, Flo. So is this the boyfriend?’ Eunice Allsopp came up behind Zander and attracted his attention by prodding him in the back with the end of her ebony walking stick. ‘Come on then, let’s have a look at you.’
With good grace, Zander waited while Eunice chose the correct spectacles from the selection strung around her neck. Putting them on, she peered suspiciously at his face. ‘Are you wearing mascara, young man?’
‘No.’ Zander’s mouth twitched. ‘No, I’m not.’
‘Hmm.’ Clearly not convinced, Eunice looked over the top of her spectacles at Flo. ‘Is he gay?’
‘He isn’t gay,’ said Flo. ‘He’s my boyfriend.’
‘So? He still could be. One of my husbands was gay. Lovely chap,’ said Eunice. ‘We got on very well together. It has its advantages, too. He didn’t bother me all the time, if you know what I mean.’
‘I do.’ Zander nodded gravely. ‘But I’m still not gay.’