Page 51 of The Seaside Supper Club

‘Ooh, only then. How did they take it?’ Nikki well knew the background to the family’s loss. She’d known and liked Jane, too. It was, of course, a small village. A close community.

‘Not too bad. Gutted, of course. But, hey, we’re all trying to be positive. And it does sound like they’ve caught it in time. Fingers crossed.’

‘Thank Christ for that. Look, I’m mid cleaning job, but I couldn’t not call you. I’m sending heaps of love, huge hugs, and fingers crossed for the op, and everything.’

‘Thanks, lovely.’

‘I’ll call back later. See how the patient’s getting on.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Love you loads. Take care. Hang on in there. He’ll be out and driving you nuts again soon enough.’

‘Yeah.’

‘And please, let me know if I can help in any way.’

In the midst of her own already hectic life, it was so lovely that Nikki was there for them, and happy to help.

The message that had just come in from Lily was touching, too:

Hey, guys, so sorry to hear about your sad news. Sending loads of love and support for today! Let me know how I can help. Xx

Cath felt filled with such a sense of warmth. If she was now acting as Will and his girls’ safety net, then she knew, as sure as anything, that these guys, these wonderful supper clubbers, were there to be her safety net, too. And that meant the world to her.

*

After a further twenty minutes sitting on a park bench, watching the world go by, a rain shower set in, and having only come away in a thin jacket, Cath headed back to the hospital. She shook off the raindrops, and finding a coffee shop in the main foyer, she sat nursing a latte, watching the ins and outs of patients, of porters and carers. Hearing the wail of an ambulance siren, the frustrated tantrum of a crying toddler. The waiting and wondering. Day appointments, check-ups, major surgery, all going on at the same time. Life and death, and the miracle that was perhaps a dozen surgeons’ hands, right now, working on patients, fixing and healing, as well as the committed care of the nurses in the many wards around her. It was pretty mind-blowing. And you never really gave it a second thought until you were there, plucked out from your everyday life and thrown suddenly into the mix of it.

She took her Kindle from her handbag, and settled down to read for a while, choosing an easy-going romantic comedy to help take her mind off things.

A while later and her phone was ringing. She scrambled to pull it from her pocket. A Newcastle number … the ward? Oh.

‘Hi, it’s Cath.’ And breathe …

‘Hello, Cath. It’s Annie. Good news, Will’s out of surgery and doing fine in recovery. He was lucky to be one of the first in.’

Oh, praise the Lord.

‘They’ll be bringing him back up to the ward soon. I’d say give it fifteen minutes, and then come back up whenever you’re ready.’

‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’ She felt a weight lift from her. This was the start – and yes, there’d be a hill of healing to climb – of life heading back up. Of more tests, and checks for cancer on the way, but he’d got through the op okay, and this felt like the first step to finding happier days.

She raised her latte mug in a mini ‘cheers’ to herself.

Chapter 21

He looked so pale and fragile as they wheeled Will back in from recovery. But the worst was over, the operation done. Cath gave him the gentlest of hugs, afraid of hurting him.

Will was to stay in overnight. The girls arrived early evening with relieved kisses, a cycling magazine and a couple of his favourite chocolate bars. They took up the two seats at his bedside, and started chatting. Cath took the opportunity to go and grab a sandwich, suddenly realising that it was teatime already and that she’d missed lunch altogether, offering to get the others something from the coffee place or handy hospital shop. Will said he fancied a packet of salt and vinegar crisps, something with a bit of flavour. The girls replied thanks but they’d just eaten, and then shared their plan that Sophie was to stay over with Maddie in her Newcastle flat that night, so they’d be on hand for visiting.

Cath intended heading back up the road to home, but not until she felt Will no longer needed her. She’d return to her cottage and bed, hoping for a few hours’ sleep, ready to get up early and back to the hospital, to collect him the next day.

‘We could bring him home,’ offered Maddie. ‘We’ll be coming back up to Tilldale anyhow. I’ve moved my shifts this week to have a few days free.’

‘Oh yes, that’d be nice for us to take Dad home,’ Sophie added, almost territorially.

Or was that Cath being supersensitive, she mused, before responding, ‘Oh, it’s just I’d imagined I’d be taking him back with me. I’m going to be here visiting again in the morning.’ She needed to know he was okay, to be there for him. That’s how she’d imagined things would pan out. But she wasn’t the only lady in his life who felt it was her responsibility to support him. Of course, his daughters would want to care for him, too.