I’m in my old bedroom, surrounded by boxes. Earlier I’d asked Dad if he could go up to the loft to bring down all my old university files, books, and loose photographs in old shoeboxes that I’d packed away after the accident, promising myself I’d never look at them again.
I sift through some photographs of Sarah, Sean and me. Some of my happiest memories were during year one and two at King’s. I pick out a photo of Sarah. She’s in a long black dress that shows off her curves. I remember that night. It was summer and we were about to go to a party to celebrate the end of our first-year exams. There’s another picture of the two of us, taken by me. We’re way too close to the camera, making our smiles look enormous.
I take out my books and coloured files filled with notes. I pick up
Gray’s Anatomy for Students
. It’s a shiny, full-colour version of the classic text, a bible for medical students. I open my old and very used
Kumar & Clark’s Clinical Medicine
and flick through the pages, look at the pencilled notes in the margin and see myself back in the Greenwood lecture theatre with Sarah. It was our second home during our first two years, a huge auditorium with walls painted an oppressive shade of dark orange, and tiers of battered folding seats with fold-down tables for writing notes. I smile, remembering Sarah invariably falling asleep during lectures. When I think of the thousands of hours I sat in that auditorium, listening and taking notes … ‘It seems a waste, somehow, a shame to let it go,’ Charlie had said to me when I was lying in the bath, that very first time I’d visited his parents’ home. ‘Don’t you miss it, Cass? The adrenalin, the buzz, the people?’
I do recall the excitement when Sarah and I were allowed to help with a delivery for the first time. We could hardly sleep that night; neither one of us had expected it to be so dramatic. I also remember how I’d rushed back to the flat one time, dying to tell Sarah and Sean how I’d just seen an obstetrician deliver a hypoxic baby by emergency caesarean, ‘And then, oh my God, he had to resuscitate him, and it was incredible,’ I was saying, my words tumbling out. ‘It was awe-inspiring the way he was so calm. He saved that baby’s life.’
I pick up some old cards I’d received after the accident. The first one I open is from Dr Helena Ray. She was one of my favourite doctors in my third year at Chichester Hospital. She was a consultant neurologist, elderly, tweedy, brisk and eccentric. Her patients loved her; you could see it in their eyes and from the way they hung on to her every word. Most had chronic conditions, so she knew them well and treated them as if they were all her dear friends. She challenged the idea that to be a good doctor you must distance yourself from your patients. I read,
If at any stage there is anything I can do to help, please let me know, Cassandra. Find strength in your heart.
One of the things I found most touching about working in my placement hospitals was the courage and optimism of a lot of patients, especially when I could see there was little hope. I think of Jenny at Canine Partners, in hospital for twenty years. These people are fighters, wanting to hang on to life until the bitter end, determined to shake out of it as much as they can.
I pick up my framed picture of my two special donkeys at the sanctuary, Feliz and Branson. This photograph used to be on my dressing table. I decide to put it back there, where it belongs. As I reach the bottom of the shoebox I come across a photograph taken when I was eight years old and about to go to a fancy dress birthday party. I’m posing in front of the fireplace wearing a white and blue nurse’s uniform with white knee-length socks, a toy stethoscope round my neck and I’m carrying my first-aid box.
I don’t hear my father coming in until he says, ‘Cass, supper’s nearly ready.’ He glances over my shoulder. ‘Look at you. I remember that party,’ he says nostalgically. ‘You told me in the car that your dream was to have superpowers and save the world.’ Gently he squeezes my shoulder before leaving the room.
I pick up my telephone. If I’m going to do this, I’ll need Sarah’s help. As I listen to the dialling tone, all I can hear is Guy’s voice when he, Dom and I were on our way to the Tower of London. Looking back now, I see clearly why he’d said it. He knew it was our last time together.
‘Promise me you’ll think about going back to King’s. She should, right Dom? Do what you set out to do, Cass, and each time you come across a difficult patient who swears too much, think of me.’
Rich drives me to Charlie’s parents’ house. We’ve been invited for Saturday lunch before Charlie’s thirtieth birthday party tonight. ‘I’m picking Anna up from the airport Friday evening,’ Charlie had explained on the telephone last night. ‘Then we’re driving home to help Mum organise everything before you arrive. Rich is going to give you a lift.’ He paused. ‘By the way, I don’t think it’s a great idea telling Mum and Dad about us over the weekend, do you?’
I found I was relieved. I wasn’t ready to tell Mrs Bell either.
I gaze out of the window, thinking how much I have missed Charlie in the last week. ‘His phone bill must be huge,’ Mum had said one evening when my mobile vibrated again, though secretly I could tell she was delighted that finally I had a love life, and especially one with Charlie.
‘You and Charlie are together, aren’t you?’ Rich asks as we follow the signs for Oxford.
‘Hmm … how do you know?’
‘He’s been behaving strangely all week, even paid for a whole round of beers the other night. He told me,’ he adds. ‘Plus you can’t stop smiling.’
I smile even more.
‘Don’t say anything to his mum though, will you?’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’
‘She’s terrifying, isn’t she?’
‘Nah, not really, not when you get to know her.’
‘Right. What’s Anna like?’ I watch Rich’s reaction, remembering Charlie saying how he was still in love with her.
‘Hot.’
‘Sometimes you guys are as shallow as puddles.’
‘Now that’s a compliment. Firstly you said “sometimes”, and secondly there’s a lot of rainfall in this country and puddles can be deep. So deep that one time on New Year’s Eve there was such a flood that my entire car was submerged in water and I had to swim out of the passenger window.’
I laugh. ‘Come on, what’s she really like? I want all the gossip before we arrive.’
‘Well, she’s a fashion journalist, has been living in New York for a while but then had a bad split with her boyfriend out there. The guy lived a double life, he had a family.’
‘The lying sod.’
‘Tell me about it. But I don’t think she’s ever been that great a judge of character. I mean, we went out together for over a year.’ He turns on the stereo. ‘Then she brutally dumped me.’
‘Rich, how could she?’
‘I know, I’m a good catch,’ he says, trying to be humorous but the rush of redness to his cheeks gives him away.
‘Well, it’s her loss.’
‘That’s exactly what I say to myself. Anyway, we’d be a nightmare together. She’s too fiery and outspoken and I’m way too laidback for her. What’s that expression?’
‘Yin and yang?’
‘That’s it. I’m yin, she’s yang. Yin yang no work,’ he says with a bad Chinese accent.
‘Sometimes it does.’ I tell him about my mother and father. ‘Also Edward and I were too similar in a way, too yin and yin, so we realised we were much better off as friends. Maybe you should talk to her?’
‘And get my heart trampled on all over again? I don’t think so. Honestly, Cass, you have to be careful of those Bells.’
*
As we drive over the sleeping policemen, my mind wanders back to that very first time Charlie drove me to his parents’ home, just over a year ago. I realise how much has happened since then, and how happy I am right now, in this moment. I want to hold on to it for ever, never let it go.
Rich beeps the horn when we arrive in the courtyard. Charlie comes out with his father. He opens the door and kisses me on the cheek. ‘How was the journey? I’ve missed you,’ he whispers into my ear.
Charlie lifts my wheelchair off the back seat, along with the detachable wheels, and positions both in front of me. I’m aware of Charlie’s dad watching me. ‘Very clever the way you do that,’ he says. ‘It’s a neat little chair, isn’t it? Can I take your suitcase, Cassandra?’
‘Thank you, Mr Bell, and please call me Cass.’
‘In that case, please call me Henry,’ he says warmly. ‘“Mr Bell” makes me feel rather old.’
When his father strides on ahead with my suitcase, Charlie kisses me on the lips.
‘You two will get caught,’ Rich teases as he carries in his black tie suit, which was hanging ironed and pressed in the back of the car.
‘Oh my God!’ Anna screeches. Rich drops his suit as she flings her arms around his neck.
She’s wearing skinny jeans with a baggy bright pink top and her hair is cropped short, with streaks of blonde.
‘My sister, Anna,’ Charlie says to me, ‘if you hadn’t guessed.’ She looks over Rich’s shoulder towards me. ‘Shit, sorry!’ She steps on the collar of his jacket as she walks towards me. Rich picks his suit up without a murmur of complaint.
‘Anna, this is Cass.’
She bends down to give me a kiss on both cheeks. She is beautiful in a tomboy sort of way. No make-up, just raw good looks. Her eyes are huge and so blue you’d think they glowed in the dark, and her short hair accentuates her graceful neck and strong jaw line.
‘Where’s your dog?’ she asks.
‘Ah, he’s with my friend, Sarah.’ Matt loves dogs, so they were going to take him to Hampstead Heath tomorrow for a walk and picnic.
‘Shame! I was dying to meet the little fella! I’m starving!’ She tugs on Rich’s arm.
Charlie touches my shoulder and when Anna turns to tell us to hurry up he withdraws his hand immediately.
*
After lunch we all go for a walk around the grounds, except for Mrs Bell. Rich and Anna walk on ahead, whereas Henry stops frequently. He tells me that each tree he has planted has been labelled carefully because otherwise, when he dies, no one will know what on earth it is. ‘Each one has a special meaning for me,’ he says. ‘For instance, I planted this when Charlie was born. It’s a
Metasequoia glyptostroboides
.’
‘I’m not even going to try to repeat that,’ I say.
‘Dad knows all the Latin names,’ says Charlie.
‘It’s a Dawn Redwood.’
‘Phew. I can remember that.’
‘It must be about forty foot tall now,’ Henry says. ‘It’s a quick-growing conifer and the leaves are pink in the spring and turn green later on.’
‘How exciting to see the colours change.’
‘It’s magical. Come, have a look at this one. It’s a
Liquidambar styraciflua
.’
‘Now you’re just showing off, Henry.’
He stamps over a few thistles and nettles to get to it. ‘The leaf is pretty, don’t you think? It’s like a maple. There are so many varieties, this is a Lane Roberts.’
‘Does this one’s leaves change colour too?’
‘Oh yes, in the autumn the colour is fantastic. The leaves go from a yellow to red to burgundy. It’s incredible.’
‘I think it’s my favourite one so far,’ I say. ‘It’s beautiful.’
He cuts off a leaf and hands it to me.
*
After tea Mrs Bell shows me to my bedroom. ‘Now, Cassandra, I hope you’ll be comfortable.’
‘Yes, this is lovely,’ I say looking around the room with an en suite bathroom. There are fresh flowers on the dressing table, along with a slim glass vase holding my liquidambar leaf that Henry touchingly left for me.
‘Good. You must be tired. Do have a rest before the party.’ I breathe a sigh of relief when she shuts the door.
‘Charlie, what are you doing?’ I hear her asking him outside.
‘Just checking on Cass.’
‘She’s resting. Can you give me a hand?’
‘In a minute.’ Pause. ‘I’ll be down in a sec, Mum,’ he says. I hear the floorboards creaking as finally she walks away.
Charlie comes in and lies down on my bed. I join him. ‘Come here,’ he says, wrapping his arms around me.
‘This feels good,’ I say. ‘I’ve missed you.’
Lying in each other’s arms we talk briefly about my decision to try and go back to King’s. I tell him how my tutor is putting forward my case to the governing body and if I’m accepted, I’ll return this autumn. ‘I’m so proud of you,’ he says, running his hand down my back. We stop kissing when we hear footsteps outside my bedroom door. ‘It’s quite fun having a secret, isn’t it?’ Charlie whispers, placing a hand over my mouth to stop me from laughing.
When it’s quiet I whisper, ‘Are you nervous about telling your mum?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure? I mean, it’s fine not saying anything this weekend, but if you’re having any doubts …’
‘Why would I be having doubts? Are you having any?’
Anna bursts in without knocking and Charlie moves away, almost falling off the bed. He stands up, his hair unkempt, and says stiffly, as if he were a butler, ‘So, if there’s anything else you need, give me a shout.’
‘Absolutely,’ I say, acting equally badly. ‘Will do.’
‘Wow!’ Anna exclaims, pushing him out of the way. ‘Is this what you’re wearing tonight, Cass?’
Hanging on my wardrobe is a golden Vivienne Westwood top that used to belong to Mum. ‘I love her work,’ she sighs, touching the silk. ‘So timeless.’
Then she walks over to the bed and sits down next to me, crossing her long lean legs, a gesture that suggests she could stay for some time. ‘See ya, Charlie.’ She waves at him. ‘Scoot. Girly chat.’ She turns to me. ‘So, Cass, what do you do?’
I tell her I’ve just handed in my notice at Back Up. I was sad to leave and felt guilty that I hadn’t worked a full year, but Charlotte was understanding, and we’d discussed how I could still volunteer and come on some of the courses. Charlie and I have talked about returning to Colorado.
‘Charlie said you were in a car accident. It must be so tough, I don’t know how you do it.’
‘Do what?’
‘Be in a wheelchair. You’re really brave.’
‘Isn’t being brave throwing yourself into a house that’s on fire? You see, I don’t have a choice.’
‘That’s true,’ she says, surprised to have been challenged. She starts to hum, looking around the room. ‘How about boyfriends? Dating anyone at the moment?’
‘Er, no, not really.’
‘Not really,’ she repeats. ‘Interesting.’ She smiles, showing off snow-white teeth.
‘Well,’ I say casually, ‘there is someone I like but it’s early days, you know. How about you? I’d love to go to New York. I’ve been to Colorado – that’s how I met Charlie.’
Immediately I regret mentioning his name because it brings her back to the path she wanted to be on.
‘He’s pretty special, my brother, isn’t he?’
I nod.
‘What’s it like living with him? He’s so messy, isn’t he? Does he leave his smelly socks lying round the place?’
‘Sometimes!’ I laugh. ‘Ticket chews them. He’s not brilliant at washing up either.’
‘An important phone call has to be made, right? Or a sudden migraine?’
‘Exactly.’ I begin to relax. ‘And I tell you what else he does.’
‘Go on.’
‘When he eats he bites against the whole of the fork and it really irritates me.’
‘Oh God, that’s a family habit, we all do that!’
‘And he doesn’t chuck away empty cereal boxes.’ I laugh affectionately, remembering our last argument about the empty pack of Shreddies. ‘But he’s lovely. The other day I was in real trouble and he dropped everything to help me out. He’s a good friend.’
‘Yeah, he is. He loves to come to everyone’s rescue.’ She pauses before she says, ‘I think people can take advantage quite easily.’
I breathe deeply, unsure where this conversation is heading now.
‘Did you meet Libby?’ she asks.
‘She was lovely.’
‘Do you know why it didn’t work out?’
‘No.’ I fiddle with the embroidered flowers on the bedspread. ‘Charlie said something about it not feeling right.’ I can feel her penetrating stare.
‘We all really liked Jo, his ex. Maybe it’s got something to do with her?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ I look at my watch, but she doesn’t take the hint.
‘So come on, is the guy you like coming tonight? Some of Charlie’s friends are seriously cute, I wouldn’t blame you.’
‘Anna, sorry, I really need to start getting ready.’
‘We’ve got ages yet,’ she says with no intention of leaving.
Charlie opens the door. ‘Anna, Mum needs you.’
‘What for?’
‘She didn’t say.’
‘We’ll finish this chat later,’ she says to me, reluctantly leaving the room.
When she goes I lie down and shut my eyes. ‘I felt like I was being interrogated, Charlie. Why the hell didn’t you tell me she was a prison warden in a former life?’
*
We eat in the dining room. Mrs Bell has cooked beef Wellington for twenty guests, and after the main course the men move two places to their left and I am now sitting next to Charlie. He touches my thigh under the table. I can’t feel it but I know his hand is there. I expect Anna to climb under the table and investigate. Get the handcuffs out. Worse still, the truncheon.
At midnight Anna carries in a chocolate cake and we sing ‘Happy Birthday’. When his parents finally go to bed more wine is poured and the party gets louder. There’s music and dancing, and by the early hours of the morning, when all my inhibitions have gone, I can’t resist giving him a proper birthday kiss.