Page 53 of You Were Always the One

‘More? Oh, Holly.’ Charley sighs. ‘So you went and married someone sensible, when your free-spirited man was the one.’

I stare at her, incredulous. ‘How do you know?’

‘I did the same.’ She pauses. ‘I came to my senses, thank God. Divorced him a year later. Of course, I was pregnant by then. But I can honestly say I’ve never been happier. Though I’ve always wondered about the one that got away.’ Her expression changes. ‘I suppose given the situation you’re in, there isn’t a lot you can do.’

‘Not really. And I’m talking far too much about me.’ But it feels like talking to a friend. ‘Can we talk about you?’

‘There’s not a lot to say.’ She shrugs. ‘There’s no pain. I’m just tired – that awful phone call didn’t help and I probably should do less in the garden. I have to listen to my body,’ she says. ‘Annoying though it is. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.’

When I get home, I call the hospital. They tell me Miles is out of surgery and is in ICU; that it went as well as can be expected. When I tell Max and Grace, relief flickers on their faces.

‘When is he coming home?’ Grace asks.

‘I’m not sure,’ I say. ‘Probably not for a week or so. He’s had quite a major operation.’ It’s telling that neither of them asks to go and see him.

That evening, my phone pings with a message. It’s from Riggs.

Hey. No need to reply. Just wondered how you were doing. Hope you and the kids are OK x

Not long after that, Rita calls me.

‘How did it go?’ she asks.

‘OK, I think. They’re keeping him in for a few days.’

‘Then he’s coming home?’ she asks.

‘Yes.’ I sigh. ‘If it’s over with Patricia, he needs someone.’

‘So it was Patricia he was seeing?’ Rita looks mutinous.

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘He didn’t tell me what their row was about – only that before it happened, she told him she wanted them to live together.’

‘Fucking Miles,’ Rita says savagely. ‘And now he’s sick. How are you doing this, Holly? I honestly don’t know how I’d get my head around this.’

‘I’m struggling,’ I say. ‘So far, the kids are doing OK. But I’m dreading getting the test results back.’ I think of the two weeks of limbo that lie ahead of us, none of us knowing what the future holds.

Two days later, I go to see Miles in the hospital, not at all sure what reaction I’ll get. Back on the ward, he looks battered and his head is bandaged. But when he sees me, he doesn’t tell me to go away.

‘I got you these.’ I take out the grapes I bought on the way here. ‘I brought you some pyjamas, too.’

‘Thank you,’ he says.

I sit in the chair next to his bed. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Relieved it’s over,’ he says. ‘The surgeon said they got most of the tumour. But they couldn’t get all of it.’ He pauses. ‘He can’t tell me more until we get the results. They’ll give me a follow-up appointment in a couple of weeks’ time.’

‘If you let me know when, I’ll bring you,’ I say.

He frowns. ‘There really is no need.’

I roll my eyes. ‘Do you honestly think you’ll be driving by then?’ A thought occurs to me that he’s hoping Patricia will take him. ‘Or do you have other plans?’

‘Don’t.’ His voice is flat. ‘I can’t do this. Not right now.’

It can wait. ‘Do you have everything you need? Or is there anything you want from home?’ I am civil; there is no affection between us.

‘I have everything I need.’ He hesitates, then manages, ‘Thank you.’