Page 8 of Big Sexy Love
My insides wobble. She really means this. She’s properly thought about it. She’splannedit,even.
I can’tsayno.
What kind of person says no to adyingwish?
I look at her looking at me desperately and feel a swell of love and sadness for my dearfriend.
‘I’ll do it,’ I say, much to my ownsurprise.
Birdie exhales with relief, clapping her hands and pulling me into a hug, her skinny arms squeezing me tight. ‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,’ she whispers, leaning her head onto my shoulder. ‘Hey, you never know, you mightlikeit.’
A massive busy city in a country that I don’t know? Strangers? Planes? Someone else’s bed? Trying to find a man called Chuck with no solid knowledge of where hemightbe?
‘Yeah, you never know!’ I say brightly, hugging her back, the pair of us getting tangled in herIVwire.
But I seriouslydoubtit.
* * *
It’slate afternoon when I leave the hospital. I walk out into the cold, cloudy spring air, gulping it in as I head towards the bus stop into town. Joan and Joan work the stall on Fridays so I agreed with Birdie that I’d pay them a visit and ask to take some days off. I think they’re going to be pretty peeved with me. I’m usually so reliable. Taller Joan once told me that I was as regular as clockwork, which I took as a greatcompliment.
Once I’d said yes to going to New York to deliver her letter, Birdie swung into action, her energy and excitement doing little to quell the swirling nerves in my stomach. She got out her laptop and in less than half an hour she’d booked the flights, arranged the Airbnb and bought my insurance all while I watched, still stunned that this was evenhappening.
I get on the bus, clutching the jigsaw puzzle to my chest. After Birdie said she didn’t want it, I tried to give it to one of the geriatric wards. They didn’t want it either, though, on account that it was ‘so very eerie-looking’. I suppose I’ll just keep it formyself.
When I reach the market, I pass the stalls I’ve been passing for the last nine years, waving to the friendly faces of the stallholders I see each day. There’s Old Bob with his fabric stall, Mr Rishi who sells shoes and trainers. And there’s Camembert Cath, shouting out to all potential customers nearby that she has the most reasonably priced cheese in town and that they should come check out her Sussex Slipcote, taste a bit of her old Gallybagger, sample her glorious BalcombeBrownRing.
The fish stall is pretty quiet for a Friday afternoon and I spot Joan and Joan leaning against the wall, sipping paper cups of tea and natteringintently.
‘Ladies… do you sell goldfish?’ I ask when I reach the counter, putting on a daft deepvoice.
‘Look who it is!’ Taller Joan trills when she sees me, her tanned, wrinkled face breaking into a warmsmile.
‘Hiya love! What the bloody hell are you doing here on your day off?’ Tall Joan mock-scoldsme.
My cheeks get all warm and I bite my lip nervously. ‘I… Well… I’m here because… I was actually wondering if I could… take a few days off?’ I say, shoving my hands into the pocket of my coat. ‘Five days to beexact.’
The Joans look at each other in surprise. ‘Of course love!’ Tallest Joan says right away. ‘Absolutely.’
Shit. I think a part of me was hoping she’d refuse. Or at least make it seem like me going would be a hardship, rather than sounding as if she’ll pack my casesherself!
‘Is everything okay, flower?’ TallJoanasks.
I nod and explain about Birdie’s request that I go to New York, find her ex-boyfriend and give him herletter.
‘I wouldn’t ask, but she’s getting sicker every month and she really wants me to do this,’ Ifinish.
‘What is it that’s wrong with her again?’ Tallest Joan asks, putting her hands into the front pocket of herapron.
‘Lupus,’ I say. ‘It’s an autoimmunedisease.’
Tall Joan shakes her head. ‘My friend Margie has that. And she’s all right most of the time! I didn’t think it wasserious!’
‘It’s manageable in most people,’ I explain. ‘But Birdie already had heart issues and now the lupus is affecting her kidneys pretty badly. She’s had a gazillion treatments over the years, but things are gettingworse.’
‘How terrible.’ Taller Joan shakes her head sadly. ‘Well you must go and find thisChunk.’
‘Chuck.’
