Page 109 of Little Miss Fortune

‘He has HL?’ My voice shakes, sounding foreign to me.

‘Yes.’

‘Is he getting treatment?’

‘That’s the golden question—no. He refuses to.’

‘What?’ I look at Sashka. She is sharing my reaction.

‘Exactly. I don’t understand his thinking. He said something along the lines of maybe that’s how he is meant to go. I called him a fucking idiot. We got into a massive spat and have been on really bad terms since. I was really annoyed at him for starting a serious relationship and refusing to get treatment. I thought it was really selfish.’

‘What the fuck,’ Sashka mouths.

‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘He got really drunk and said that he saw the picture of your mother in the hospital, and you looked so sad that he didn’t think he could do that to you again.’

Great. I knew the family pictures were a bad idea.

‘But...’ I try to find words. ‘If he just...’

‘If he just gets treatment, he might have a good long life? Yeah. I have told him that many times. And today it felt like this was the first time he listened.’

‘So, what do you want me to do?’

‘I...’ She goes quiet. ‘I think that the only person that can convince him to stay and get better—is you.’

She hangs up. Sashka runs from her seat and locks me into the tightest hug.

What the fuck am I meant to do with this information?

CHAPTER 37

You can’t fly jets if you’re a bitch

The marketing team is huddled around the table, deep in discussion about the branding of the new shoe brand Arch Ink. Their main collection revolves around shoes and boots with cow print. The design team came back with their vision, proudly detailing their choice of font and colours for the social media campaign. The team is listing the KPIs that different individuals will be responsible for tracking, when I lift my hand up.

‘Yes, Fuko?’ Martin from the design team smiles.

‘You have low-lighted the a and r in arch.’

‘Yes, well, the reason for the design choice—’

‘It now spells c-h-i-n-k.’

That comment made me enemy number one of the office, causing potential delays with the entire campaign. Despite that, people were grateful, commenting on my keen eye. It’s hard not to notice things when you have been called that word a couple of times in your life.

But that’s not the issue. No one is seeing how funny that is—to have a cross-team with an accidental slur being the climax of everyone’s hard work. Toby would have laughed with me. He would have sent me a message to say that I am the only one in the room who’s allowed to point it out.

Steven told me that Toby will be working from home for the foreseeable future. He also started telling me about something of little interest and importance to me and to shut him up, I bowed and walked away. The bow was important as it confused him enough to leave me alone.

Now, with a small container of katsu curry, I plop the cutlet on a spoon with my chopsticks, tasting absolutely zero flavour. Fawzia sits next to me, quite cautiously.

‘You all right?’ she asks.

‘Never better.’

I keep thinking about all the things that fell together like dominos for me to end up in this situation. For Toby to have been so constricted his entire life, making him believe in fate, and how cancer is some sort of divine order and a way for him to crumble out of existence. I think about his sister, who told me that Toby’s childhood was just as bad, but wrapped in different packaging. Sometimes, I’d see specks of his dark thoughts and downplay them in my head.