Another Way to Fall. Amanda Brooke
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Название: Another Way to Fall
Автор: Amanda Brooke
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежная фантастика
isbn: 9780007445936
isbn:
I was tempted by the idea of launching the torn pieces of card into the air to shower myself in winner’s confetti but I wasn’t quite ready to throw caution to the wind. It was going to take a while to get used to my new sense of freedom. I tried to recall my life before cancer had come crashing into it. I had been confident and carefree once … hadn’t I?
I had left home with a handful of dreams and headed for university. From there, I had moved to London where, unlike many of my peers, I had landed on my feet. I was taken on by a big PR and marketing company that had offices all over the world and amazing career prospects, and it wasn’t long before I started to climb the ladder of success. I loved a challenge and I knew straight away I was well suited to the work. That was when the first symptoms had started to appear. The blinding headaches and blurred vision had made working difficult and then the diagnosis of a brain tumour had made it impossible. I was forced to turn my back on my dream job and return home. I later heard that the young woman who had taken my place was now based in New York and taking on all kinds of amazing assignments.
The tumour in my brain had been removed but the surgeon’s knife had taken away much more than simply my cancer. My ambitions, my desire to be a wife and a mother one day, these were things that required an undisputable belief in the future and I had lost that. So I had buried the dreams that I feared would always be denied me and spent the last few years treading water, taking a job as an office manager with a small family business that made fittings for kitchens and bathrooms. The business was expanding, and a new position came up as Marketing Director. I had already shown that I had the experience and the capability, but it was Alex who got the job, not me. Alex, whose father just happened to be a close friend of Mr Bannister, the owner of the company. He had the confidence and the contacts. The lost job opportunity was only a minor addition on a long list of life’s injustices so I had swallowed my disappointment and trudged onwards.
But all my troubles were behind me now and I was ready to take back what was mine. I took another deep breath of cold, November air and held it as I waited for inspiration to strike. A frown began to crease my brow as I let go of the breath in a long low hiss. What exactly did I want from my second chance at life? Other than savouring every minute, I hadn’t really thought it through.
I suppose I had imagined that the rest would be easy. I was free! If I could beat cancer, surely I was entitled to pick and choose what else my life would hold. I’d had my fair share of misery and pain, now I wanted to get to the good bit. I half expected to be met at the hospital gates by a kindly shopkeeper who would magically transport me to his store of dreams. He would stand with his hands deep in his pockets, watching me intently as I scanned shelf upon shelf of boxes in an assortment of colours and sizes, each one containing something different but equally exciting. He would wait patiently for me to make my choices from a vast array of delicious adventures. It was all mine for the taking.
But sadly, there was no kindly shopkeeper to greet me so I stood transfixed, not knowing what to do. The next step I took was an important one and I didn’t want to get it wrong. I lifted my right foot up nervously, holding it in midair, still unsure where it would lead.
It was Monday morning and Emma was alone, or at least as alone as she could be in a crowded ward. So confident was she of being discharged that she was already fully dressed and ready for her escape. She sat patiently on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed and her wayward foot tapping to the beat of the rain hammering against the window. Despite the miserable weather, the thought of being set free was no less enticing. She had already instructed her mum to stay at home, knowing that she would be busy enough preparing for Emma’s arrival. It was Louise who would be on call to pick her up as soon as Emma was ready, so now all she had to do was convince Mr Spelling that she was fit enough to be released. Leaving hospital and moving in with her mum may not be a complete escape from her nightmare but it was the nearest she was going to get to a semblance of normality.
Emma closed her eyes as she pondered the next phase of her life but her thoughts immediately took her to places she didn’t want to go. She didn’t have her mum’s unerring belief that there was a miracle cure out there somewhere and she wasn’t sure she should go chasing rainbows simply because her mum believed in them. Emma suspected that any experimental treatment would need to be unimaginably intensive to give her any chance of survival, involving what Mr Spelling would describe as ‘heroic measures’. She was already war weary and the question that haunted her was, did she want to let other people decide how much more treatment she should endure or did she want to take a more painful decision?
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Mr Spelling asked.
When Emma opened her eyes, her doctor was standing next to her and for once he had arrived without his entourage. ‘You know the inside of my head better than I do,’ she countered. ‘I’m surprised you need to ask.’
‘I’m good, but I’m not that good.’
‘So why are you so happy?’ Emma asked suspiciously as Mr Spelling grinned at her.
‘Because,’ he said, still smiling, ‘all the arrangements are now in place to escort you off the premises.’
‘What? You don’t want me to perform any more tricks for you?’ demanded Emma. ‘Wouldn’t you like me to walk in a straight line even? I’ve been practising,’ she said as she made a move to slip off the bed, but Mr Spelling lifted a hand to halt her.
‘No more tests today. You’re free to leave.’
‘And then you’ll breathe a huge sigh of relief.’
‘For now, at least,’ he replied with a note of regret.
Emma wrinkled her nose at him. ‘You don’t like accepting defeat, do you?’
Mr Spelling shifted uneasily. ‘We haven’t given up yet. We’ll start radiotherapy in January and take it from there. I’ve told you before and I’ll say it again: I will do my best for you, Emma, whatever that may be.’
‘Do you think it’s a waste of time trying to find a clinical trial?’ Emma felt nervous asking the question, not sure if she really wanted to know but at least without her mum by her side she stood a chance of getting an uninterrupted and open answer.
‘There’s a programme in America that looks promising but …’ Mr Spelling’s words trailed off but Emma waited for him. ‘There’s hope. There’s always hope.’
‘Is there? I can’t help thinking that it might be better to simply accept my fate. If you told me right now that there was nothing more you could do for me, no more treatment, then I swear, I think I’d actually feel relief. It’s hard clinging onto hope, knowing how bad the effects of the treatment are going to be and as you’ve been keen to point out, with no guarantees.’
Emma’s emotions were in complete flux and she couldn’t completely blame the cocktail of drugs she was taking for the mood swings. At times, she was ready to take on the world, whilst at others, she keenly felt its weight on her shoulders and could barely lift her head to the horizon. And then there were the darkest moments when all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and literally die. To make matters worse, she could switch from one mood СКАЧАТЬ