BEVERLY HILLS, LOS ANGELES
Emily gazed unseeingly out of the car window, her mind whirring. She was in the back seat with Amy, while Sophie and Melissa were in the front. Melissa was driving, as she had done all weekend. It was impressive how well she knew her way around LA – she looked and acted like a native, which wasn’t surprising considering how much time she spent here. Emily felt pretty certain Melissa would end up living here permanently one day fairly soon.
They were on the Pacific Coast Highway, heading for Malibu. The view was breathtaking, with the road hugging the miles and miles of wide, golden, sandy beaches bordering the deep blue ocean with its rolling waves crashing relentlessly onto the shore.
It had been an almost perfect day. They had enjoyed breakfast by the pool, before lazing in the sunshine reading for a couple of hours. Then Melissa had driven them to Santa Monica, where she had booked lunch for them at a breathtakingly pretty Plantation-style hotel right on the beach. Now they were heading for Malibu where Melissa had decided that they should try their hand at surfing. Emily hadn’t had the heart to remind her that she couldn’t swim.
She had tried to throw herself into the weekend but it was so, so hard. Every time she started to relax and enjoy herself, a heavy swell of dread would rise up inside her, reminding her that everything was essentially meaningless until Jack got well again.
‘Leukaemia?’ Sophie repeated, unable to compute what Emily had just said. ‘How can a healthy thirteen-year-old boy have leukaemia? That just doesn’t seem possible.’
Emily blew her nose. ‘I know. I keep hoping there’s been some kind of terrible mistake but there hasn’t.’
They were sitting opposite each other in a busy coffee bar near Emily’s flat in south-east London. She had called Sophie a week after they got back from their weekend away and said she needed to talk. Sophie knew instantly it was something serious but she had had no idea just how bad.
‘But there’s been such progress, hasn’t there? In the treatment available now? The prognosis must be good?’ Sophie tried to sound upbeat, despite her shock. She was already mentally rolling through the back-catalogue of films she had made about children with cancer, to try to recall some of the positive stories.
Emily shrugged. She looked worn out and seemed to have aged several years in just one short week. There were purple shadows under her dark eyes and her normally olive skin had a grey tinge. ‘It’s amazing how quickly you become an expert when you’re faced with it. They do seem pretty positive and obviously he’s in the best place,’ she said, her voice beginning to wobble, before she covered her face with her hands and began to sob again.
Sophie watched her, feeling utterly helpless. ‘Will he have chemo?’
Emily gathered herself and wiped her face with her tissue, which had long since disintegrated. She fished in her bag for another before replying. ‘Yes. Hopefully that will be enough.’
Sophie took Emily’s hand in hers. It felt cold and clammy. ‘What can I do to help? What can any of us do? Just say the word.’
Emily took a deep, shuddery breath. ‘You can visit him. I think he’s already getting bored of just me, Mum and Dad.’ She gave Sophie a watery smile. ‘And I don’t know if you think it’s right for the kids to come but I think he’d really like that…?’
Sophie nodded vigorously. ‘Of course. And what about when he gets out of hospital? Do you want to come and stay with us?’
Emily shook her head. ‘Thanks, Soph, but there’s no need. We’ll be fine at our flat.’
Sophie pictured Emily bringing Jack home to their cramped conversion flat, which required two steep flights of stairs to reach their front door. It seemed like a very bleak prospect. ‘Listen, now that Amy and the kids are moving out, we’ll have loads of room. You know how much Emma adores Jack. It might do them both good.’ She gave Emily an encouraging smile. She desperately wanted to help in some way.
‘But it wouldn’t be fair on Steve…’ Emily began to protest.
‘I know Steve and I know that he’d be happy to help. We all would,’ she added. ‘Please, Em, give it some thought?’
Emily took another deep breath. ‘OK. I’ll think about it.’
‘And how are you bearing up?’ Sophie searched Emily’s face, thinking how desperately tired she looked. It wasn’t surprising. After all, she had had two massive shocks in the space of a week.
Emily smiled wanly. ‘I’m OK. And I suppose there is one good thing to come out of all this…’
Sophie shook her head in admiration. How anyone could find an upside to such an awful situation was beyond her. ‘What’s that?’
‘It’s made me get over the Anton situation quicker than I would ever have imagined… It certainly puts everything into perspective.’
‘Have you heard from him?’
‘Oh yes,’ Emily tutted and rolled her eyes. ‘He’s left various voicemails begging my forgiveness. Claims he’s confessed all to his wife and is moving out. Can’t live without me, apparently.’
Sophie smiled, relieved that Emily was able to laugh about it. It was just over a week since she had cried that she would never, ever get over him. ‘Have you returned any of the calls?’
‘Nope.’ Emily looked up, her expression defiant. ‘I honestly don’t care if I never see Anton Massey again.’
Sophie thought, but didn’t say, that she might have no choice in the matter. If Jack needed a bone-marrow transplant, his father could be a match. She mentally batted away the thought. Hopefully, it wouldn’t ever come to that.
He had seemed to be making such good progress initially. The doctors smiled when they spoke to her and told her that the signs were positive. And Jack really had seemed to be improving. He had struggled with losing his hair but it was already growing back, curlier and darker than before, but growing nonetheless.
They had taken Sophie up on her offer to move in temporarily with her and Steve in Richmond. In truth, it was less of an offer and more of an order. Emily had been reluctant but Sophie had insisted. And Jack had given her such a pleading look when she told him, that she just couldn’t refuse. He had been through too much already. She didn’t want to deny him anything that could help his recovery.
But even before the doctors confirmed it, she knew that he had had a relapse. She could sense it, even without the physical clues. She could tell just from looking into his eyes and from the slightly strange feel of his skin. Chemotherapy alone wasn’t enough to cure him, they said. He needed a bone-marrow transplant.
She hadn’t yet told the others. She didn’t want to spoil Sophie’s hen weekend. But the knowledge was weighing heavily on her and she felt as though she was permanently on the brink of buckling under the strain.
‘A sibling,’ said Jack’s ridiculously young-looking consultant, when Emily and her mum met with him, ‘would provide the best match.’
Emily’s mum’s eyes had widened in despair. ‘But he hasn’t got any siblings!’ she cried, her face crumpling as she dissolved into tears, before looking at Emily with a confused expression. ‘Has he, Emily?’
Emily stayed dry-eyed, although her stomach lurched and her heart began to race, as the implications of what the consultant was saying began to sink in. ‘Is that…?’ she began, clearing her throat nervously. ‘Is that the only option?’
The consultant shook his head. ‘No. It’s not the only option. But it is the best option. If he doesn’t have any siblings…’ he continued, eyeing Emily, as if he sensed that maybe that might not be the case, ‘we will test all other family members for a match. If we don’t find one in the family, he will go on the national register and we may well find a match from a stranger. There are still plenty of options left open to us.’ He finished with a reassuring smile.
Emily nodded. She liked this consultant and trusted him. She turned to her mum, who had recovered her composure and was desperately trying to put on a brave face. ‘Mum, would you mind if I had a chat with Mr Carmichael alone?’
A brief flicker of doubt passed across her mum’s face before she nodded furiously. ‘Of course, of course!’
Emily waited until her mum had gathered up her handbag and left the room before she addressed the consultant again. ‘If…’ She paused, trying to work out how to phrase what she wanted to say. ‘If someone was a match because they were a relative – a sibling for example…’
The consultant nodded briefly and Emily could tell from his expression that he had seen and heard all of this before. It was probably an all-too-common occurrence.
‘Would they be able to donate without having to be told they were a relative? Or without anyone else in the family having to be told?’
‘They wouldn’t have to be told,’ the consultant replied without missing a beat. He had definitely done this before. ‘But we would strongly recommend that they be told. Ultimately, the decision is that of the parents.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I understand that you are not in a relationship with Jack’s biological father – is that right?’
Emily nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘And am I to take it from your earlier question that he doesn’t know that he is the biological father?’
Emily hesitated before answering. ‘It’s complicated.’
‘Right.’ The consultant pursed his lips. ‘Do you have any contact with him at all? Any way of getting in touch with him?’
Emily took a deep breath. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘If it’s absolutely necessary, I know where he is. I could get in contact with him.’
The consultant nodded slowly. ‘Does he have any other children that you know of? Obviously I’m thinking that they might provide a sibling match for Jack.’
Emily looked down at her lap. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Two.’
‘In that case, I would strongly recommend telling him. Those two children represent the best chance for your son’s recovery.’
Emily watched the others from the beach, envying them their carefree laughter. She sometimes wondered if she would ever laugh again. She could feel her mood getting darker by the hour and even the breathtaking beauty of her surroundings couldn’t lift it. Not being able to swim had been a handy excuse to duck out of surfing but the truth was that even if she could, she wouldn’t have been able to bring herself to join in the fun.
Sophie was a surprisingly good surfer. While Amy and Melissa tipped off their boards and slipped under the frothy, rolling waves time and time again, Sophie was able to ride the surf all the way to the shore. Emily felt a sudden spike of jealousy shoot through her as she watched Sophie wading back out to join the others, who were floundering about in the deeper water, trying to get back on their boards.
Life always seemed to go right for Sophie. She was rich; she had a highly successful career; she was about to marry the man she loved and most of all, she had two perfect, healthy, happy children. It just didn’t seem fair. For a split second, she felt only pure hatred for her. How had she managed to get it so wrong and Sophie get it so right?
As if she sensed her watching, Sophie surfed into the shore and scooped her board under her arm, before walking up the beach to join Emily. She dropped down onto the sand beside her and ran her hand through her long, wet hair. They didn’t speak for a while, as they watched Amy and Melissa tumbling into the water time after time.
‘They’re hopeless, aren’t they?’ Emily continued to stare straight ahead. ‘Not like you. You’re a pro.’
Sophie laughed. ‘Not quite. But growing up in Northern Ireland beside those amazing beaches meant you didn’t have much of an excuse not to learn. It’s a lot bloody colder there though – at least here the sea’s warm and the sun’s shining.’
‘Yeah,’ Emily agreed, looking around her, trying to draw some enjoyment from the beauty of it all. But it was as if she was inside some kind of invisible bubble. She could see it all, but she couldn’t feel it.
‘I know this weekend has been hard for you,’ Sophie said, throwing Emily a sideways look. ‘But I’m so glad you came. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.’
Emily immediately felt bad about her earlier unkind thoughts towards Sophie. She was a good person and it wasn’t her fault that she had led such a charmed life, while Emily staggered from one crisis to another. ‘I’m sorry I’m not more fun.’
‘Completely understandable.’ Sophie paused for a moment before continuing. ‘Look, I’ve been thinking, Em. Would you like us to postpone the wedding? Just until Jack’s fully recovered and you’re feeling a bit brighter?’
‘God, no. Of course not.’ Despite herself, Emily was touched. Sophie was so giving, so unselfish, that she would even consider delaying her wedding to make Emily feel better. ‘You two have waited long enough already. I don’t want you to put it off any more.’
Sophie smiled. ‘Yes, but as we’ve waited this long, a bit longer wouldn’t make much difference!’
Emily shook her head emphatically. ‘No, really. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine,’ she said, trying to sound more positive than she felt. She still hadn’t told the others that Jack needed a bone-marrow transplant. She had only met with the consultant the previous Thursday and she couldn’t find a way to tell them without completely ruining their trip.
‘Is there something you’re not telling us?’ Sophie said now, as if reading her thoughts.
Emily desperately wanted to unload. To tell her everything. But she couldn’t. It just wouldn’t be fair. ‘No,’ she shrugged. ‘Just feeling a bit… low, I suppose. A bit overwhelmed.’
‘You’ll feel better when we get home again. It was probably expecting too much of you to come with us on this weekend. But like I said, I’m so glad you’re here. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it at all if you weren’t.’ She reached out and put a hand on Emily’s narrow back. ‘We’re like the four Musketeers – one for all and all for one.’
‘Yup,’ agreed Melissa, who had come out of the sea and was now deftly tying her long braids into a knot on top of her head. ‘Sophie’s right. It only really works if we’re all together. Look what happened when you all decided to kick me out of the group back in Camber Sands that time! You were utterly miserable without me.’
Emily couldn’t help but smile and she threw Melissa a grateful look. She was such a tonic. She always knew how to deflect the conversation when it strayed into tricky territory or got too heavy.
Amy, who had also emerged from the sea, threw her towel onto the sand and stretched out her long, toned limbs. ‘I think you’ll find you thoroughly deserved it, young lady. And I certainly wasn’t miserable without you.’
‘Liar!’ Melissa cried, picking up her towel and swiping it at Amy, who yelped in mock protest.
‘Now that I think about it,’ Amy said, sitting back up and dusting off the specks of sand Melissa had flicked over her, ‘I should have been begging you to take him off my hands. It would have saved me a lot of grief in the long run—’
‘OK, let’s not go there…’ Melissa cut her off quickly, her cheeks flushing slightly. ‘I don’t need to be reminded what a fuck-up I was.’
‘What do you mean “was”?’ Sophie said, before they all burst out laughing.
Emily joined in. Sophie was right. Their group worked best when they were all together. Apart from Jack, these three women were the most important people in her life and no matter how bad she felt, being with them always helped to make her feel better. She would force herself to enjoy what was left of this wonderful weekend in this incredible place and try to shut out of her mind what she needed to do when she got back to England. For a couple of days at least, everything else could wait.