Who's Afraid?, page 28
‘It was us,’ I whispered, more to myself than to him.
‘What?’ he asked, turning to face me.
‘If we hadn’t been together dancing, then Mari and Kane would have still been in the party. They wouldn’t have been abducted.’
‘You mean me. You think it was me that got them killed.’
‘No, I didn’t say that Lor—’
‘You didn’t have to.’
‘Hey! I was there too, OK? I had opportunities to save them and change the course of events and I failed to. Their blood is on my hands. I just …’
‘You just?’
‘I wish things had ended differently.’
‘You can’t change what has happened, Tommi. You can only grow from it.’
‘Don’t give me that Instagram philosophy bullshit,’ I hissed. I was angry: I’d been straight with him about how I felt and in return he was dispatching generic motivational taglines.
‘What do you want me to say? You were rash and you acted without thinking? That you flew into action without working the problem through and put more at risk than you had to?’
‘Is … Is that what you think?’ I asked, my voice sounding like a croak rather than my own.
He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He said nothing. My tongue paused, unsure about asking the next question and the damage it could do. But I had to know.
‘Why did you burst into the warehouse?’ I asked. He was silent for a long while and I ploughed on, eager to explain myself and fill the void. ‘I left my phone there so you knew what he said, that he expected me to come alone or he would hurt them. I wanted you to know the address, but—’
‘Because I didn’t care, Tommi!’
‘You didn’t care?’ I asked, shocked.
‘I didn’t care if the Guard backup was five seconds away or five minutes. I didn’t care if Ennis was bringing the cavalry or just himself.’
‘You didn’t care if Mari or Kane got hurt? If they got killed?’ I was incredulous.
‘Yes, because I only cared about you! I assessed the situation and realised that your time was running out. I could have waited, been more covert and hoped the support arrived in time. But I made a judgement call and that was to put you first.’
‘I cared about those people, Lo, they mattered to me! They were my best friends. Heck, you lived with them! How can you say they meant nothing?’
‘I’m not saying they meant nothing, what I’m saying is that it came to a choice between risking your life or risking theirs. You’re my ward. I was not willing to put you any further into the line of fire.’
‘You’re my ward,’ I repeated. Is that all I was to him? His ward? No, I didn’t believe that – especially after everything we had been through. The way he kissed me told a story in and of itself. The way he touched my hair, sweeping it off my face. The way he held me and …. No. I needed to stop. I was getting lost in the feelings again and disregarding that facts. I needed to think about this, about us, more carefully. Our relationship had already had consequences, was I ready for others?
‘Maybe you were right,’ I started. ‘Maybe this isn’t the best idea. Your values and mine … there’s more than age distancing us, isn’t there?’
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look at me. His complete and utter lack of emotion is what hurt the most. He nodded, before looking back out the window. ‘I understand. I can sleep at home until you’re released.’
‘Huh. Just like that,’ I muttered.
Several more minutes stretched out between us before he finally made a move to exit the room.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he said, sharply. He walked straight towards the door and his abrupt action stalled me for a moment. Just as he was about to leave, he halted.
‘For the record, if we could go back in time and do the whole thing over, I wouldn’t do anything differently. I’d still put you above everyone else. I’d still make that call.’
And with that, he left.
In a bid to stop the bad dreams, I was taking what I called the Nightmare On Elm Street approach. In short, not sleeping. I was going to be discharged tomorrow, Friday, so I was spending my last night in hospital walking the empty corridors. These empty, dark halls had featured so many times in my nightmares lately you would have thought I’d find them terrifying now. Yet there was something oddly soothing about strolling through the hospital and having no waves of blood chase me down, no corpses of friends appear at a doorway or wolves rip me apart.
It was just quiet. Empty. Night.
Of course things were never exactly quiet in a hospital. There was always that background hum of ringing phones, machines whirring, nurses talking. I was perched on the armrest of an ordinary couch in a deserted common room and watching the few cars driving by on the road below. Sensing a presence behind me, I looked at the appearance of my visitor in the reflection of the window. Podgy and with a white man’s afro, Doctor Gareth Duzleski looked like a mad scientist plucked straight out of the eighties. Quite a feat considering he was barely over forty. Turning slowly, I placed my legs on to the cushions of the couch in what was a decidedly more human posture to be found in.
‘Hello, Tommi. It’s been a while,’ he said politely.
‘I was wondering if I’d see you around here Doctor D.’
‘When I heard you were admitted I’ve been trying to stop by, but it’s not easy. Different departments and all.’
‘I’m sure you had real lives to save.’
Dr D. was an oncologist at Saint Theresa’s who specialised in juvenile and young adult cases. He was a nice guy. Quiet and well spoken, I’d come to know him well when he was treating Joss here. Dr D. was the nickname I had given him after gargling over his Russian surname one too many times. It had stuck.
‘The night nurse said I might find you here. I didn’t know she meant wandering the entire fourth floor, but I guess I need the exercise.’
‘Sorry,’ I said, not really meaning it. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’
‘No, I’ve heard as much.’
There was an awkward silence between us for a moment as I watched him work himself up to what he had to say next.
‘I’m so sorry about Mari and Kane. It’s truly devastating.’
Dr D. dealt with death every day. I wondered how he ever got used to it. I had nothing to say. I’d been lucky. I hadn’t seen too many people outside of the hospital yet so I hadn’t had to deal with the barrage of well-wishers and grief hounds. Dr D. wasn’t one of them, but I still didn’t have a response for him.
‘Thanks’ was wrong and ‘I know’ didn’t fit right either. Instead, I returned my gaze to the cars below and watched them buzz on, uninterrupted.
‘I actually came to speak to you about something else,’ he said, clearing his throat.
His tone sparked something in me, a memory of when he would deliver the latest updates on Joss’s condition. It was his official voice and I looked at him curiously.
‘There’s someone you need to see.’
‘Someone?’
‘I know Joss hasn’t been to see you.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because I’ve been with him, Tommi. He’s here, back in oncology. He was admitted to emergency the night of your accident.’
I leaned my back against the glass of the window and wished for an instant that it would disappear, leaving the night to take me whole. If Joss was here, back in oncology, and Dr D. was delivering this news … I knew exactly what it meant.
‘Take me to him.’
The strange thing about tears is when you’re a werewolf you not only taste the salt in them, you can smell it. A small English Channel was running down my wrists as I rested my head on my hands at the corner of Joss’s bed. He was fast asleep with deep bags under his eyes. The tubes and machines around him carried on, awake and alert. He had been here less than a week and already the pallor of his skin was shifting from healthy pale pink to the translucent shade only cancer patients and onions seemed to have.
‘We got the results a few days ago and it confirmed what I feared. The cancer’s back,’ said Dr D. from behind me.
He was standing there quietly, letting me have my moment.
‘What stage?’
‘Three.’
‘Already?’
‘It’s come back more aggressive than before and spread from his throat to his liver and intestines. We’re trying to isolate the cells and determine when we can operate.’
I dropped my head into my hands and squeezed my eyes shut as tight as they would go. ‘And he didn’t want to tell anyone?’
‘His parents obviously know, but he wouldn’t let them tell anyone else. Especially you. He was going to tell you after the funerals, I believe. He didn’t want you to have to deal with too much at once.’
I laughed. ‘The little shit.’
‘You called?’
Dr D. and I both jumped and looked over at Joss, who was watching us quietly. I stared at him, not able to wipe the tears off my face. He looked past me and over at Dr D. ‘I can’t believe you told her,’ he said in a voice that sounded so weak it did me more damage than a thousand full moons. Dr D. shrugged.
‘Shut it,’ I said, getting up from the chair to hug him.
I leaned off his arm and he slung it around my shoulder. We stayed like that for a while: me half lying on top of him, attempting an embrace, while Joss patted my shoulder. Finally, sitting back down in the chair, I wiped my face.
‘No more, Joss. You keep me clued in every bit of the way,’ I said, waving a finger at him.
He sniffed and I leaped up to wipe a few loose tears from his face.
‘Thanks. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just didn’t want to … hurt you.’
‘I’m a big girl. Joss, you’re one of the only things I have left. Let me be here.’
He gripped my hand with surprising strength. ‘I will, BFF.’
I couldn’t bring myself to laugh, so I smiled.
‘Mari and Kane,’ he said, his voice sad and struggling to steady itself. ‘Did you see them before they …’
He was looking at me hard, searching for answers in my eyes. I felt like Judas. Me, begging the truth out of Joss about his illness, when I was the Queen Secret Keeper. Heavy is the head.
‘Kane, no. Mari and I only had moments,’ I said, trying to keep it vague.
‘Did she say anything?’
‘No, her throat … it was quick.’
‘Let’s speak together at the funerals. We were always a foursome. I don’t think I can get up there without you.’
I honestly hadn’t thought about the specifics of the funerals yet, only the awful reality of having to attend them. I nodded and leaned back in my chair.
‘So,’ I said, voice solid and resolute. ‘How do we fight the C-bomb this time?’
Dr D., who had been busying himself with a chart while Joss and I spoke, looked up with a smile.
‘Always in the ring, Tommi,’ said Joss.
‘Always,’ I replied, unapologetic.
‘We’re starting the first dose of radiation tomorrow, which will knock you around for a few days. By then we should have a definite course of action for surgery.’
‘Tell her the other bit.’
Joss had heard this before.
‘After the funerals I want him moved to Mechtilde General for the surgery.’
I looked over at Joss, who was expressionless.
‘You’d be willing to go back to the clinic? You hated Germany.’
‘Berlin specifically,’ muttered Joss.
‘We could certainly do the first two or three surgeries here and continue the chemo, but this is going to be a prolonged stay for Joss,’ added Dr D. ‘They’re already familiar with your case and the treatments that worked best for you in the past.’
‘You could do it here, couldn’t you, Doc?’ asked Joss.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘What?’ I sensed his hesitation.
‘I’m one doctor, incredible as I may be.’ He added a self-depreciating laugh. ‘Mechtilde General’s clinic has a first-rate team, as you know, from surgeons right down to the ward nurses, who would be able to give you a better chance. It’s a question of whether you would you prefer Paul McCartney or the Beatles?’
‘They have bugs in their hospital?’ asked Joss, feigning disgust.
I rolled my eyes at him and addressed Dr. D. ‘The Beatles, because it had John Lennon and all the other cats.’
‘There are cats too? You’re not sending me to this hellhole.’
I glared at Joss and he shushed.
‘It’s one of the top five cancer treatment facilities in the world,’ added Dr D.
‘Then we go back there,’ I said, looking at Joss for approval.
‘But it’s expensive.’
I gave a look that communicated I would slap him. His parents were wealthy and had paid for his treatment at Mechtilde General the last time he had been really sick. They’d even relocated there for three months proper while I came and visited every fortnight or so.
‘OK, so they can afford it but I won’t know anyone there.’
‘Clutching straws, hun. You’ll know me.’ I gave him my best cheesy grin.
‘There’s still the semi-permanent accommodation facilities for your parents and visitors like, Tommi,’ said Dr D.
‘I won’t need that.’
‘Why not? You’ll be visiting, won’t you?’ asked Joss.
‘Of course, I’m moving there.’
‘What? Since when?’
‘Since now.’
‘Tommi, you can’t just move to Berlin because of me. You have a job here and—’
‘And what? I’ll have an empty apartment with the ghosts of two dead friends haunting me in it. I’ll have memories that cut at every turn. I can get another job, no drama.’
I wasn’t sure if the last part was true, but I had enough saved to keep me going for a while. Actually, I had more than enough. The gallery paid poorly, but I loved what I did. That made up for whatever the paycheque couldn’t. What I hadn’t let anyone except Mari and my grandparents know about was the £120,000 my mum had left me. She had been a successful estate agent before she threw it all in and went to start the B and B. She had invested a lot in that, but there was still a hefty sum she had saved. All of it went to me when she died, along with her possessions. I paid off the remainder of my grandparents’ mortgage, which wasn’t much, and they wanted to keep her possessions. I hadn’t decided what to with the remaining money yet.
Currently, it was sitting in a high interest account with £5,000 put aside for easy access in case of emergencies. The good thing about having been a student is you get used to learning how to be poor and make every penny count. Over one hundred grand was infeasible to me at the moment. It could sit pretty until I grew up or bought a masterpiece. Kane’s family would have no trouble paying for the funeral, Mari’s might need a little help. I could step in there, anonymously if I had to. A sabbatical in Berlin might soak up a touch more.
‘Where did you go just now?’
Joss’s voice brought me out of my mental account managing.
‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘thinking.’
‘She always does this,’ he said to Dr D.
‘If Mechtilde General is the best, we go there.’
‘And you’re coming?’ asked Joss in a voice that made me want to wrap him in cotton wool and defend him from the world.
‘Fuck yes.’
‘And what about Lorcan?’
‘What about Lorcan?’ His question had taken me by surprise.
‘Oh come on, Tommi, how long is it before you two are properly dating? Like, not a Poc thing.’
‘Is that an adjective now?’
‘Tommi.’
‘We’re not … together. At least not like that. I dunno, Joss, it’s difficult to explain. I’m not sure if being with someone right now is healthy.’
‘Whatever you say, but just know that I’m the master of what is and isn’t healthy,’ he said, pointing at his many beeping monitors. I laughed, it was the only thing left to do.
‘That’s the last stitch, done,’ said Dr Kikuchi. She wheeled back from the edge of the bed and grabbed my shirt.
I was sitting in the hospital room in jeans, black combat boots and a purple bra. I stretched my arms and tried to get used to the new stitches-free feeling.
‘All gone,’ I said, as Dr Kikuchi handed me my black T-shirt.
‘That’s right, who’s a big girl now? I left the lollipops in the children’s ward, I’m afraid.’
The door to the room opened and Lorcan came through it, causing me to hurriedly throw my T-shirt on. His eyes lingered on my form a little longer than was kosher before he quickly turned his back to give me some privacy.
‘You’ve been alive for how many centuries, Lorcan, and you still don’t know how to knock?’ growled Dr Kikuchi. I kind of loved her a little bit.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.
Slipping the shirt on over my head, I tried to avoid Lorcan’s gaze but couldn’t help it. In the end I met his expression. Looking between the two of us, Dr Kikuchi said: ‘What are you going to do about this?’ She made a flippant gesture with her wrist. ‘You keep looking at each other like that and even the blind member of the Three’s going to be able to see what’s going on.’
Dr Kikuchi’s buzzer went off, causing her to jump off the stool and grab her equipment. She was about to head out the door without saying goodbye again when I stopped her.
‘Hey, not so fast,’ I said, blocking her path. ‘You’ve escaped every time before I could say thank you. Thank you. Thank you for saving my life, both times.’
She looked flattered for all of a second. ‘I’m not sure whether it’s my skill or your stubborn desire to live, but thank you accepted.’ She held up a hand warily. ‘No hugs.’
‘Sure,’ I said, stepping aside and leaving her a free exit.
‘Lorcan.’ She nodded and disappeared from the doorway.
We were silent as I quickly looked around the room, which was lit by the mid-morning sun.
‘You ready?’ he asked.
