Page 73 of The Last Kiss

“Or it could be total failure and you don’t come around again, and if we don’t get to revive you, the heart won’t start again.”

“Wow, that’s some risk. I don’t think I’d want to take the chance.”

He looks at me with such earnestness. How does he face this as a job? “Julia, you could go into arrest at any time. Your stats really are very low.”

“But I feel fine.”

“Do you?”

Damn him and his mind reading.

A gust of a sigh blasts from my lips. “No. I’m really, really tired. It’s getting harder and harder to get through every day. Work is a slog.”

“That’s because your heart can’t cope. It’s under enormous pressure. Enormous.” He repeats the key word for emphasis just in case I missed its importance the first time.

“Do I need to stop work? Will that help things? You told me twelve months in January.”

He shakes his head and rests his hand on mine. “No, Julia. I said a few months, twelve at the most.’

Silently I absorb what he’s saying.

“That changes things,” I mutter. “That changes things a lot.”

Pulling my knees up to my chest, I drop my head onto them as hot tears burn my eyes. It’s only April. I haven’t done anything yet, been anywhere.

Henri

His name whispers through my brain.

“I’ll leave you to get dressed. I’d like to see you again in two weeks please.” With a motion he rubs my sobbing back. “I think it’s time to talk about end-of-life care so please can you bring your sister?”

I swallow down a rising tide of vomit pressing my eye sockets so hard into my knees they ache.

I can’t answer so I nod. The pull of the bay’s curtain on its rails tells me he’s gone. A woman in pieces left alone to have a private moment. How many times has this trained medic seen people just like me? To know when to go, or maybe to now be immune to it? When I’m alone I sob, hard and fast.

“Oh my god, what on earth is wrong with you?” Liv pulls me into her house, her Dyson is still running in the lounge. “I’ve been so worried about you, why didn’t you call straight after your appointment?”

“I…” I heave, my chest has a boulder pushing down on it, my ribcage unable to move. “I saw Dr Francis.”

Liv’s face falls and she tugs at the Marigolds on her hands. “Okay, what did he say?”

I can’t repeat the words. Can’t find the vowels and consonants to articulate them. So instead I cry. “Oh, sweetie.” She winds her arms around me and crushes us together. “What are we going to do?”

I shake my head and press my face into her neck. “There isn’t anything to do, Liv.”

“I’ll make tea.”

My watery grin breaks through like weak sunshine after a storm. “Tea would be good. Although I might need something stronger. I’m going to call Mum and Dad.”

Liv’s alabaster skin sickens to a dove grey. “Fuck. This really is it, isn’t it?”

I nod. “Yeah, sis, I think it’s time to start realising the fact.” I walk for the kitchen, her zombie ghosting behind me via a detour to the humming vacuum cleaner. The space feels good. I don’t have to see her heartbreak while I’m crunching through my own. I turn the kettle on, ready for the next bombshell. “Dr Francis wants you to come to my next appointment in two weeks because we need to discuss end-of-life care.”

I meet her gaze and she stares at me in horror. “What does that even mean?”

I lift my shoulders to my ears. “I actually don’t know.” Then unable to stand up any longer, I crumple to the floor.

I’m curled on the plush armchair, a sweet cup of tea balanced on the arm, a coaster underneath of course. I don’t want to die right this minute.