Another Way to Fall. Amanda Brooke

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      ‘Or decide what needs to be kept and what doesn’t,’ Emma said, swallowing another bitter pill of disappointment. She had been living in a large Victorian terrace for the last few years and space had never been an issue.

      Emma turned away and headed for the living area, which had a compact kitchen with a small dining area to the left and the living room to the right. The soft lime-green walls gave the room a modern twist and the creams and purples of the soft furnishings added light and shade but the colours were lost on Emma. Her world had turned as dark as her mood and she ignored the balloons and WELCOME banners, her eyes drawn instead to the wide patio window that led onto a balcony and the panoramic view over the River Mersey. In the distance, she could just make out the silhouettes of brooding hills, the most distant of which marked the Welsh border. Their peaks were smeared by dark, heavy clouds as they scraped against the sky.

      ‘Am I interrupting?’

      It was perhaps the one voice that could draw Emma back into the apartment. ‘Alex! You came!’ she cried.

      ‘I said I would,’ he said reproachfully as he proferred a bouquet of blood-red roses, which were crushed as Emma rushed into his arms. As she buried her head in his shoulder, she breathed him in. She could smell aftershave and soap overlaid with an unmistakeable mustiness. Bannister’s offices adjoined the workshop and Emma was surprised by the sudden rush of longing for the place.

      Meg and Louise busied themselves in the kitchen whilst Ben stepped into the shadows. There was an air of judgement in their collective silence.

      ‘We’d better head back to the bistro,’ Louise said at last, her tone brusque to match the speed at which she headed back towards the door that she had walked through only moments earlier.

      ‘You’re the boss,’ added Ben, but he was still looking at Emma. ‘If there’s anything you need, Emma, you know where I am.’

      ‘Thanks, Ben,’ Emma said, lifting her head over Alex’s shoulder.

      ‘Any cravings for my Moroccan chicken or chilli beef, you only have to pick up the phone. Day or night.’

      Emma held his gaze. She was used to offers of help being thrown at her, platitudes that would never be followed through, but Ben’s offer was direct, definitive and she didn’t doubt for a minute that he would be there if she needed him.

      ‘Come on,’ Louise told him, pulling at his sleeve. ‘Before she gets any ideas about us starting up a takeaway business.’

      ‘I’ll see you out,’ Meg offered.

      ‘And remember to shut the door after you this time,’ mumbled Louise as they disappeared.

      ‘Actually, I can’t stay long either,’ Alex said as he unravelled himself from Emma’s arms and dropped the crushed bouquet onto a nearby table. ‘I just wanted to let you know that I’ve really been missing you.’

      ‘I’ve missed you too,’ Emma replied, hoping it wasn’t the cold reception from her family that had made him eager to leave.

      ‘You look so well,’ Alex said. There was a note of disbelief in his voice. He already knew the painful detail of Mr Spelling’s prognosis and Emma wondered what he had expected to see. Alex hadn’t known her when she had first been diagnosed with cancer, he hadn’t seen her brought to her knees by the rigours of her treatment and, more importantly, he had never seen her as a cancer victim. But that was what he saw now.

      Emma fought against the urge to raise her hand self-consciously to the dressing that still covered the back of her head. She had pulled her hair loosely across the wound in a ponytail and that, with the help of carefully applied makeup to cover the dark circles under her eyes, had meant to complete her disguise. ‘I’m not dead yet,’ she said, surprising herself by her directness.

      If she had wanted to shock Alex, then the way he surreptitiously inched away from her embrace confirmed that she had succeeded.

      ‘Sorry,’ she added quickly.

      ‘You’re a fighter and you’re going to beat this. You have to.’

      ‘I’m not sure my doctor would agree with you there.’

      ‘Will you come back to work?’

      ‘No, not at the moment,’ Emma said, although she desperately wanted to say yes. She wasn’t ready to quit on every aspect of her life and as she had said, she wasn’t dead yet. But Emma also had to accept there were limitations and the seizure she had suffered earlier that day served as a timely reminder of that fact. She could push herself but not too hard, not until she was sure that her medication levels had reduced or completely eliminated some of the symptoms. She wasn’t ready to consider that she might never return to work but returning in the near future was an unrealistic target.

      ‘We could really do with your help right now,’ persisted Alex. ‘Mr Bannister has brought Jennifer in to help but she’s on a steep learning curve.’

      ‘Jennifer’s covering my job?’

      Jennifer was Mr Bannister’s wayward daughter and although she was about the same age as Emma, she had never worked as far as Emma was aware and she had certainly never shown an interest in Daddy’s business before.

      ‘Needs must,’ Alex said. ‘She’s trying really hard but it’s not an easy job stepping into your shoes. I think she would really appreciate it if you dropped by some time, when you’re up to it.’

      ‘Maybe I will call into the office,’ Emma told him but she had no intention of helping Jennifer step into her shoes. She had thought that they were still hers and she would be telling Mr Bannister just that.

      Alex smiled and kissed the top of her head, his lips making a satisfied smacking sound. ‘I knew I could count on you. We make a good team, you and me.’

      ‘Yes, we do,’ agreed Emma as she tried to match his smile. ‘Give me a few days and then I’ll come in. I promise.’

      ‘And if there’s anything you need, you know where I am,’ Alex said as he peeled himself from Emma’s arms.

      There was only a brief kiss on the lips and then Alex was gone. Within moments, Emma felt the walls closing in around her so she busied herself in the kitchen. She was filling the kettle when Meg reappeared. She had been in Emma’s bedroom on the pretext of sorting out boxes, keeping a safe distance and, by all appearances, giving Emma some privacy.

      ‘How about a nice cup of coffee?’ Emma asked.

      ‘There’s decaf in the cupboard, or if you fancy something else then I’ve got pomegranate juice or there’s green tea. I tried to get that smoothie drink you used to have but they’re going to have to order it in for me.’ Meg had clearly resurrected her knowledge of cancer-fighting nutrients. Foods high in antioxidants or containing phytochemicals would be high on the list of essential groceries from now on.

      ‘I’m OK with normal coffee for now,’ Emma told her with a mixture of irritation and sadness as another door in her past life reopened. ‘You don’t have to nursemaid me.’

      ‘I know,’ Meg agreed and the familiar crackle of emotion accompanied her words. ‘I’m sorry.’

      Emma’s СКАЧАТЬ