friend had helped to pack them sometime over the last few days. She felt so useless and wretched that she didn’t know what to say or do.
‘We’ve arranged for a man with a van to bring your furniture,’ Gil told her as he came along the hall with a heavy box. ‘Once it’s here we can get things looking a bit more like your kind of home.’
Unable to stop herself, Vivi looked down at the carpet with its yellow and black diamond design and in spite, or maybe because of how awful it was, she found herself wanting to laugh.
Gil followed her eyes, and Michelle said drily, ‘I think it qualifies as retro.’
‘Just what I was going to say,’ Gil agreed.
Mark said, ‘Remember, NanaBella was always going on about changing it.’
It was true, but the room was used so little they’d ended up forgetting about it, even after NanaBella had gone. Gina only used the other side of the house, which was much more up to date.
‘Do you want me to take this stuff upstairs?’ Mark asked. ‘Or would you rather have it down here?’
Though Vivi had no idea what was in each of the holdalls or boxes, she remained determined that this wouldn’t be her full-time base, so she said, ‘Upstairs.’
‘Are you sure?’ her mother asked, coming out of the kitchen.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ Vivi told her shortly.
Apparently not wanting to fight, but still keen to get her way, Gina said to Mark, ‘Anything that needs to come down again can always be sorted out later.’
Vivi turned away, and Michelle put a steadying hand on her arm.
‘If we’re going to Yvonne’s for dinner,’ Gina said, ‘then I think you should have a lie-down first.’
Vivi was tense to breaking. ‘Do you?’ she muttered.
She didn’t have to see her mother’s expression turn to one of awkwardness and regret as she picked up on her unrealized error, because she could feel it. It took a lot of effort for Vivi to raise her head and say, ‘I’m sorry, you’re right,’ because of course her mother was, and she really didn’t want to hurt her.
‘I’ll go on ahead to give Mum a hand,’ Michelle said, breaking the tension. ‘The kids are dying to see you, Vivi, but if you’d rather wait till tomorrow, Sam can always stay at home with them tonight.’
In spite of knowing she’d prefer to wait, Vivi said, ‘I’ll be fine by the time we get there, so I’d love to see them.’ Life had to go on. She needed to find the strength to be normal.
After Michelle had gone Mark took himself off upstairs, and Gil remarked to no one in particular, ‘Well, I guess I probably ought to be making a move.’
Vivi waited for her mother to protest, but Gina said, ‘Thanks very much for driving us today. We couldn’t have managed without you.’
Pulling Vivi into his arms, he spoke tenderly. ‘Take care of yourself, sweetheart. You know where I am if you need me.’
‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, close to tears again. She desperately wanted him to stay, to carry on understanding her and her mother the way he always seemed to, but they weren’t his responsibility any more. Her mother had seen to that.
As Gina walked outside with him Vivi watched from the window, wondering what they were saying and if they would kiss. They did, but briefly, dutifully almost, before Gil got into his car.
By the time her mother came back Vivi was perched on the edge of the sofa trying to get a sense of the ICD, and whether it was registering any rogue events in her heart to relay to the cardiac team later.
‘Can I get you anything?’ Gina offered.
Vivi looked at her as hard as she could as she said, ‘Why do you do it?’
Gina flushed. ‘Do what?’
‘Why do you send him away when any fool can see that you want him to stay?’
Gina flinched. ‘He’s got someone else,’ she replied.
This was the first Vivi had heard of someone else, and for a horrible moment it felt as though he was cheating on her mother, and on her. ‘If it’s serious,’ she heard herself saying angrily, ‘then you only have yourself to blame.’
Gina didn’t argue, merely set about straightening up cushions that didn’t need it at all.
There was so much more that Vivi wanted to say, or shout, or simply beg answers to, but it took all the energy she had left to say, ‘Everything’s different now, Mum, I hope you realize that. I intend to find out the truth before I die,’ and knowing Gina understood exactly what she meant she turned away, not able to say any more for now.
Vivi had been awake for a while, remembering when Gil had come into their lives and bought a house only four doors away from Michelle’s parents on Westleigh Heights.
He hadn’t only done it for her so she could stay living close to Michelle, as she’d believed at the time, he’d done it for her mother and NanaBella, because NanaBella hadn’t wanted Gina and Vivi to leave Kesterly either. So Gil had kept everyone together by renting out his home in Bath, relocating his consultancy business to Kesterly, and, best of all, he’d come most days to pick her up from school. That had shut everyone up about her not having a father, because they’d been able to see him, and so what if he wasn’t a real dad? As Michelle used to say, ‘That makes him even more special, because he chose you.’
Smiling at the sweet belief of that, Vivi opened her eyes, and wondered what time it was and, for a moment, where she was.
As everything came into focus she felt herself swirling back towards an abyss of despair. At the same time she was glad to be here, at home, no longer in hospital, and really she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else, while this was happening.
While this was happening.
That made it seem temporary; something simply to be got through until better days dawned. It was a good way to think of it, far better than the alternative of days becoming shorter and darker until there were no days at all.
She closed her eyes again, and tried to refocus, to think of the reasons to be grateful, and the many things she needed to do before time ran out. She realized there would be no bucket list for her – or not one that included daredevil stunts, long-haul flights or weeks of hot, passionate sex on a beach in the South Seas with a younger version of George Clooney. Her list would have to be far less ambitious – organizing her meditation programme would be a start. She also needed to see her GP, meet the specialist team at the local cardiac clinic who were taking over her interim care, and then she should make sure that the Kesterly ambulance service had been informed of the need to rush her to the transplant centre at a moment’s notice should a new heart come up.
Feeling certain that the cardiac team had already done that, and if not her mother would have, she sighed shakily and tried to change her train of thought again. It did no good to torment herself with the deeply troubling issue of someone having to die in order for her to live. She wasn’t even on the most urgent transplant
