to tempt fate. But yes: cancer’s a good bet. A small one, caught early but requiring seven or eight months of treatment.
Sad face: I’m so sorry, Stell, but I can’t leave her right now.
Yes, it’s perfect. I give myself a silent high-five.
And so, I wait outside Stell’s office again. All afternoon, I sit in the Greek-run sandwich shop across the road, one eye on my coffee, one on the office door. But, as afternoon turns to evening and darkness sets in, I start to wonder if she’s even there. Then, around eight, just as I’m about to give up, I see the door open and, finally, it’s her. I sprint across the street.
‘Stell!’
‘How long have you been waiting?’ Stell locks the office door as she speaks, her eyes not meeting mine.
‘Since half-four.’ I nod at the sandwich shop. ‘I was in there quite a bit. Great coffee. Kept me awake.’ Instinctively, I reach to touch her arm, but she jerks it away from me and starts to walk down the pavement towards the Tube station. I dash to catch up.
‘Stell. Wait!’
‘What? I told you how it’s going to be. I don’t do affairs.’
‘I know. Please come with me. Come for a quick drink. I need to talk to you.’
‘About what?’
‘About stuff.’
‘What sort of stuff?’
‘There’s something I need to tell you. About Ness.’
She stops and turns, a flash of hope in her face. ‘What is it? Have you left her?’
I swallow. ‘Not here. Come with me.’ I tug at her arm, and am surprised that she lets me guide her by the elbow to the nearest bar. We stand awkwardly as I order drinks. Below ground is a second bar that’s quieter. Like a couple on a first date, we each carry our own glass down the spiral staircase, and I lead Stell over to a table. We’re the only people there yet suddenly the room seems tiny – claustrophobic – and the walls close in on me, the paint a dark red that makes me think of torture, burning and hellfire.
We settle, then I pick up my drink, well aware that, should she ever find out about Ness’s pregnancy or my lies, it could very well be the last time I ever have a drink with her. I look at her: at her glossy hair, her eyes, the cool paleness of her skin, the long legs slanted to cross under the table. I stare at her, taking it all in: I can’t lose her. I can’t.
Neither can I tell her the truth.
I lift my glass. ‘Cheers.’
We clink glasses but Stell puts hers straight back down. She’s on the edge of her seat, her coat still on, a smile playing around those gorgeous lips.
‘So. Tell me,’ she says. ‘What about you and Ness?’ Her tone is playful and I know she’s waiting for me to say that I’ve left her; that I’ve moved out and started divorce proceedings.
I rub the back of my neck. ‘Stell. This time without you has been hell. It’s made me realise that it’s you I love; it’s you I want to spend the rest of my life with.’
She raises her eyebrows at me but doesn’t say anything. I have her attention. I drop my voice and reach for her hand. ‘I want everything with you: the wedding, the house, growing old together… you know it was always supposed to be…’
‘A baby?’ Her voice is a whisper. ‘Do you want a baby with me?’
I close my eyes. ‘Yes. I want to have a baby with you.’
Stell sits perfectly still. I can see she’s holding her breath. I pull her into my arms and stroke her hair. ‘I can’t stop thinking about you. I need you in my life. We’ll make it happen, I promise.’ I pause. ‘Please remember that. Because there’s something else I have to tell you. And it’s not good.’
She exhales. ‘OK?’
‘I’m going to leave Ness. That is one hundred per cent certain.’ I pause. ‘But the bad news is it might take a bit longer than I thought.’
‘How come?’ Stell takes a sip of her drink and puts her glass down hard. A little wine slops onto the table. I stare at the splash on the dark wood of the table, and then I start to speak in a monotone.
‘She found a lump in her breast. She’s had a mammogram and a scan and it’s not looking good.’
‘Oh my God.’ Stell presses her hand over her mouth. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘The doctor was very concerned,’ I say. ‘They’re going to do a biopsy.’ Stell’s hanging on to my every word.
‘We’re hoping it’s early stages,’ I say, almost convincing myself. ‘But the main thing is, she’s in the right hands now.’ I hope she doesn’t question me further. What I’ve now said is the sum total of my knowledge about breast cancer.
Stell’s nodding. ‘That’s good. There’s a good chance of beating it if you catch it early.’
‘I know. I’m trying to keep her spirits up but obviously there are a lot of unknown quantities at this stage. The point is I just feel I would be a real schmuck to leave her right now. I just couldn’t live with myself. I think the doctor said that if treatment was needed, it would likely go on for a few months. So I need to be around for a while longer. Take her to appointments and look after her if she’s sick at home. She’s got no one else.’
As I say this, I’m thinking ahead to when the baby’s born. Then what will I do? I’ll worry about that later. Solutions always magic up from somewhere. The point is that, for now, I’ve staved off a crisis. And Stell is reacting just as I hoped she would.
‘Is this why you couldn’t come for my birthday?’
I nod. ‘Exactly. She’d just found out. She was in pieces. Understandably.’
She puts her hand on mine. ‘It’s OK,’ she says. ‘I get it. You’d be a monster not to stay.’
‘Thank you, princess,’ I say. ‘Just say you’ll be there for me. Say you want me. That’s all I need to hear from you. We’ll get through this, I promise.’ I lift her chin so I’m staring into her eyes.
‘Yes,’ Stell whispers, and I touch my lips to hers.
‘I love you,’ she says.
Bullet dodged, Wolsey. Bullet dodged.
I practically skip to the Tube station. OK, I feel bad for Ness, but I don’t have the slightest doubt she’ll make a full recovery. As George says, she caught it early and she’s getting treatment. Knowing George, it will be with the best private doctors around.
But the news about Ness pales into insignificance when I think about the other things that George said. As I strap-hang home, the train throwing me about as it speeds through its tunnels, I’m barely aware of my surroundings. All I can think of is George’s words.
I want to have a baby with you.
These are the words I longed to hear, alone in my bedroom at eighteen with a ball of cells multiplying in my belly. They’ve been a long time coming and they fall on me like balm, unlocking something that lies deep inside me. While I try consciously not to nourish it, this seed George has planted starts to take root.
I want to have a baby with you.
I push it away but it comes back, bigger and stronger:
I want to have a baby with you.
*