Page 65 of My Summer of Magic Moments

Given the nod to go, she travelled back home on the bus and then curled up on the sofa, feeling so very tired and still aching from the Pretty Muddy race. She felt a little odd and emotional and had a little cry. Then she blew her nose and pulled herself together. It might all be fine yet. She’d go and make a nice honey-and-sunflower seed loaf, try the oven out at last, and when it was baked and still warm and doughy, she’d spread it thickly with fresh butter. She’d walk to the Co-op right now and get the ingredients she needed.

Wednesday. Her mobile buzzed at work. She recognized the hospital number and headed out of the goldfish-bowl of the open-plan office to the landing area of the stairwell to get some privacy.

‘Hello.’

‘Miss Maxwell?’

‘Yes?’ The tension was palpable in her body. So this was it.

‘It’s Mr Bartholomew’s secretary here. I’ll just put you through.’

‘Hello?’ She waited a second. A couple of reporters from the newspaper wandered past, chatting away between themselves. Life was going on all around, yet she felt frozen.

‘Miss Maxwell.’ The familiar voice of her oncologist came on the line. ‘I’m pleased to confirm that the biopsy was negative. There was no sign of any cancerous cells within the lump. And your CT scan and blood tests were all clear too.’

‘Oh, wow … thank you.’ She felt a little light-headed. ‘That’s so good to hear.’

‘It’s most likely you’ve had an infection and that your lymph gland in the groin area has swollen in response to that. It should naturally go down by itself in the next couple of weeks. But just keep an eye on it and how you’re feeling in general, and if you have any future concerns please refer back to your GP or myself directly.’

So she wouldn’t be back into hospital, back into chemo and that grinding routine of illness and treatment she knew so well. She could let go of the fear that had hummed along in her mind for the last week, a fear you never dared voice aloud because this time it might actually get you. ‘Yes, I will, and thank you. Thank you.’

‘It’s nice to be giving out good news.’ She could hear the smile in his voice.

She pressed ‘End call’ and gave a mental air-punch. ‘Yes!’ And then the relief overwhelmed her and she suddenly found herself sobbing.

Just at that point the glass doors to the main office swung open. Dragon Julia appeared beside her, no doubt checking what she was up to, wasting time out here.

‘Are you okay, Claire?’ Her face turned from its usual scowl to concerned within a second. ‘Can I help?’ She placed a hand on her arm.

‘I’m more than okay,’ Claire smiled through the tears. ‘I’m all clear.’

‘Gr-eat …’ Julia was obviously still confused.

‘It was just a scare. I’ve had a scan, a biopsy … The cancer hasn’t come back.’

Her colleague’s arm moved to wrap her in a short and sweet hug, much to Claire’s surprise. The ice queen had thawed.

‘Well, that’s good news.’ Julia pulled back stiffly. ‘Now, let’s get back to work.’ Sympathy really wasn’t her thing.

But Claire didn’t mind at all. Getting back to work would be absolutely bloody wonderful!

Back at her flat that night, the relief still pulsed through her body, and for some reason she kept thinking about Bamburgh, imagining herself walking on that gorgeous beach. Enjoying the ever-changing view of the sea, the sound of the gulls, the soft hush of the waves on the shore. Tasting the salt of the sea air. She had this driving urge to get back to the coast. To her happy place. She still couldn’t afford the luxury hotels or cottages that were on offer in Bamburgh village, especially after all the expenses of the house move. Her half of the money after paying off the mortgage was safe in the bank till she bought again. There was only one thing for it. She had two days left of her annual leave. Life was too short to wait.

29

Catching up with an old friend

Louise, North Yorkshire

She felt a surge of joy as she saw the castle rising up from its dark rock base. She wound down the window of her car and got an exhilarating whiff of salty sea air.

It was a beautiful crisp, early October day. It was Friday, and she’d taken the whole day off work. Julia had been very understanding in the light of their recent encounter on the office stairwell – and she’d booked for the weekend with old Mr Hedley, who had seemed rather irked that he’d have to open the place up again and get the hot water tank back on, but when she offered an extra £20 towards electricity, he caved. She’d packed extra jumpers and a spare blanket just in case, not trusting the ancient fire and portable gas heater to do the job.

She drove easily along the last stretch of lane winding its way from the A1, past farms and cottages behind a tractor that slowed her journey, but no matter – and then there it was in all its glory, the majestic Bamburgh Castle and the little village below it. Driving past the butchers, Lynda’s deli (she looked forward to saying hello later), the tea rooms, the hotel, the high castle walls and the cricket pitch below, the tourists and the seagulls, her spirits soared.

The tension of her recent cancer scare was well behind her now. Okay, so she would never be totally free from the fear of its return, but she couldn’t be ruled by it either. She was going to grab life by the balls and enjoy it.

As she neared the driveway to the cottages, she was a little nervous that Ed might be there, and how he might feel about her turning up. Naturally she hadn’t told him she’d be coming; there’d been no contact since their walk in the park – though she had spotted a charity donation on the Bella’s Babes Just Giving page for a generous £50 from someone called Ed; she had a feeling she knew who that was. She had felt he needed his space. To find his own life again, however that might be. She had no wish to upset him or possibly make him angry by appearing next door, but the compulsion to come had been so great. To watch the rush of the waves, hear the sea’s roar or its hush, feel the sand under her feet. Watch a pinky-pearl sunrise over the North Sea. The place had drawn her back, like the tides themselves.