DAY 23
See old friends
“Good morning.” Annie’s mum was awake, sitting up in bed with her hands folded in front like the queen.
“Hi, Mum. How are you today?”
“Very well, thank you,” she pronounced in polite tones. “Who are you, dear?”
Annie’s heart sank again. She hadn’t even realized it had lifted. “I’m Annie.”
“Oh, that’s funny. I think my daughter’s called Annie, too. She might be along to visit sometime.”
Across the ward, Annie saw Dr. Quarani coming over, and she hastily wiped her hand across her eyes. “Mrs. Clarke,” he said, slotting a pen into the pocket of his starched white coat. Annie wondered if he had a wife at home, doing all his laundry. “How are we feeling today, ma’am?”
Annie liked the ma’am. So many of the nurses called her “Maureen” or “love” or even “Mary.” Her mother had always been a stickler for politeness. “I’m all right, thank you, Doctor.” She stage-whispered, “This lady has come to visit me.”
“That’s kind of her.” He took her mother’s pulse and made a note on a chart. “You’re doing well, Mrs. Clarke. Your vitals have stabilized and we’ve seen a big reduction in those moments of distress.”
“She still doesn’t know who I am,” Annie said, swallowing down tears.
“No. I’m sorry. We might not be able to do anything about that, as you know.”
“You’re handsome, aren’t you?” Annie’s mum said loudly. “Where is it you’re from, Doctor?”
“I’m Syrian, ma’am.”
“Goodness, that’s far away. Isn’t he a handsome chap—oh, what was your name again? Do you think he has a wife?”
Annie blushed. “Mum, we can’t talk to the doctors like that.”
“It’s fine.” Dr. Quarani smiled—and he was even more handsome then. “I’ll be back later to check on you. Bye, Ms. Hebden.”
As he turned to go, Annie heard the loud click of heels on the floor and knew it was Polly. She’d tried to keep her mother away from her new friend—she couldn’t bear for someone else to see how weak and confused her mum was, and didn’t really know how to explain the friendship. It felt too early, too fragile, to even be called that.
“Hiiii!” Polly swept over. “Where’ve you been? I was looking for you. Had my old brain scanned again. I bet they’ve got more photos of it than anyone ever had of my face. Hello, I’m Polly.” She stuck her hand out to Dr. Quarani.
He shook it politely. “Dr. Fraser’s patient, yes?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s me. Brain Tumor Girl.” She seized his wrist suddenly and Annie winced for her. “A Fitbit? Are you into sport?”
He pulled his hand back. “I’m training for the London Marathon. Dr. Fraser and myself are doing it.”
“You are? That’s amazing. I did it five years ago. If you want any training tips I can—”
“Excuse me, miss. I must get on. Bye, Mrs. Clarke.”
Polly watched him go. “I wish everyone wouldn’t think of me as Dr. Max’s patient. I mean, it’s my brain, not his. Who was that?”
“Mum’s doctor, Dr. Quarani.”
“He is by far the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen between the walls of this hospital.”
“Polleee,” Annie groaned. “Don’t. He’s a bit serious. Plus, he’s married, I think.”
Annie’s mum said loudly, “You know, nearly every doctor I’ve had in here is foreign. People say it’s a bad thing, but what I’d like to know is, who would be doing those jobs if they weren’t here? Thank goodness they came, is what I say!”
“Have to agree with you there, Mrs. Clarke,” said Polly. “We’d be literally dead without them, wouldn’t we?” Annie thought of Dr. Max, British, but also far from home. Why did he work down here, battling every day with an enemy you couldn’t see or touch? Polly was leaning over her mum, speaking clearly. “Hello, Mrs. Clarke, I’m a friend of Annie’s.”
Maureen was looking around the room again, with that unfocused confusion that stabbed at Annie’s heart. “Oh, Annie, my daughter? She should be here soon. She never visits, far too busy with that husband of hers, I imagine.”
She avoided Polly’s gaze; she didn’t want pity. “Mum, I think you’re a bit confused, aren’t you? I’m Annie.”
“Don’t be silly, Annie is my daughter. I know my own daughter, though she doesn’t visit. I wish she’d visit. I’d really like some grapes.” She said it plaintively, and Annie thought of the few times she had brought grapes, only to be told “she shouldn’t have wasted her money.”
She stroked her mum’s hand, noticing how the skin raised up and didn’t stretch back down. She was barely sixty. How did she get so old, so helpless? “Mum, shh now. It’s okay.”
Her mother’s face seemed to blank out, and she blinked and turned to Polly. Her voice was suddenly higher, girlish. “Miss, can you help me? I’m waiting for Andrew, you see.”
“Who’s Andrew?” Polly said, looking at Annie.
Her mum giggled, like a young girl. “Andrew’s my special friend. He’s going to propose to me, you know. I can just feel it. Sally, don’t you think he will?”
Sally was Annie. “’Course I do, Maureen,” she said heavily. “But don’t you think you should rest now?”
Polly was looking at her quizzically. Annie mouthed: Confused, and then to her mum: “I’m sure Annie will be here soon, Maureen. And I’m sure she’ll bring you lots and lots of grapes.” She stood up. She had to go. There was a limit to how much she could stand on a daily basis.
Polly followed her out to the corridor. “Annie...”
“Don’t.” Her voice shook. “I know you’ve got questions, but please. I can’t. Not now.”
“Andrew’s your dad?”
“Yes. She’s...sometimes she doesn’t remember he left her thirty-five years ago. She thinks they’re still together, in love.”
A long moment passed. Annie stared at the flecked lino beneath her shoes and willed herself not to cry. Eventually Polly said, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want. I was actually coming to find you. I’ve got something to show you.”
* * *
“Where are we going?”
“Med library. Did you know they had one here? You can get journal articles copied and so on. You see, there’s lots of new research going on all the time. Sometimes we don’t get the most up-to-date treatments in this country because of cost.” Polly knocked on the glass door of the small shuttered office.
It was answered by a pretty woman in a pink headscarf. “Oh, hi, Polly. I’ve got those photocopies you wanted.”
Annie hung back, heart hammering, fixing her eyes firmly on the ceiling. Was this a trick? Or maybe just coincidence? Maybe Polly didn’t even realize. But of course she did. “Thanks, Zarah. In return, I’ve brought you a little surprise. Look who it is!”
Zarah saw her, blinked. “Annie! Oh, my... What are you doing here?”
“My mum’s been sick. You...you work here?”
“Yes, I...got the job last year.” And Annie would have known that once, because Zarah had told her everything. But she hadn’t even seen her in almost two years. Since everything fell apart.
“You two should catch up,” Polly insisted, grinning like she was Cilla Black on Blind Date. “Annie’s here nearly every day, Zar. I’m surprised you haven’t run into each other.”
But even if they had, Annie would have fled the other way. “Er, how did you figure out we knew each other, Polly?” She was careful to keep her voice steady.
“We got chatting and Zar mentioned what school she was at. Small world, huh?”
“Not really, we went to school about a hundred meters from here.” Again with the light tone. Nothing wrong here. She forced her face into a smile.
Polly went on. “Anyway, it’s a sign, you both being here, so you have to meet up. You’ve got each other’s numbers, yes?”
“Mine’s the same.” Zarah’s voice was also cool, revealing nothing. Annie couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Er, mine, too.”
“Great, she’ll text you, then.” Polly was clutching Annie’s arm, implacable. “See you later, Zarah!”
Outside, Annie pulled herself away. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Push me into things. You could have just told me she worked here.”
“And you’d have gone and talked to her? Because things are fine between you?”
“I might have.”
“Seems to me that if things were fine, you’d already know that one of your best friends worked in this hospital.”
“She’s not—I mean, we used to be...”
“What happened?” Polly looked genuinely interested as she hopped onto the nearby reception counter, swinging her legs in their green patent Mary Janes.
“Ma’am, you’ll have to get off—oh, it’s you, P,” said the receptionist. Someone else Annie had never seen before. Polly really knew everyone.
She took a deep breath. “Look, I know you’re trying to help, but there’s a reason Zarah and I aren’t exactly friends anymore.”
“Which is?”
Annie opened her mouth. Shut it again. She still wasn’t ready. “Don’t keep pushing,” she burst out. “I already told you about my dad. I just—I’m not like you, okay? I can’t just...open up.”
“Fine. You don’t have to tell me. But for God’s sake, Annie. You miss one hundred percent of chances you never take, you know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means—text your damn friend. Drink a cup of coffee with her. What’s the worst that could happen?”