The jangle of the bells over the door catches my attention and my heart pounds for all the wrong reasons as I see my assistant Fern. Her face is blotchy, her eyes narrow and red. She sobs loudly and I dash towards her, placing my arm around her shoulder.
“Fern! Whatever’s the matter, sweetheart?”
The young woman pulls away, dragging the backs of her index fingers underneath her eyes in a bid to wipe away the tears. It works, but she smears her mascara in the process, leaving prominent dark streaks stretching to the edges of her face. She looks like a bedraggled version of Elizabeth Taylor in Cleopatra.
“Oh, Maggie, it’s Luke,” Fern says, referring to her younger brother. He’s a friendly, handsome boy; energetic and confident, the polar opposite of super-shy Fern. He’s been in the same class as Kelly since infant school. They dated briefly, and I’d been surprised and quietly disappointed when they’d called time on their relationship. He’d been good for her: far better than Mischa, the moody goth girl she’d dated last year. Mischa had a notebook full of depressing song lyrics from bands like Depeche Mode and The Cure, and the amount of kohl she used on her eyelids would have given Robert Smith a run for his money. It made her look like a raccoon. I’d never understood why Kelly was with her. They had nothing in common. Not once did Mischa’s purple-coated lips crack a smile, whereas I can’t help but smile at the thought of Luke, all youthful effervescence and enthusiasm. He’s a cheerful boy, uplifting and full of zest. “Last night he was screaming in pain and saying he couldn’t see. He’s been complaining of migraines for weeks, but this was the worst yet. Dad rushed him straight to the hospital and they ran all these tests, dozens of them.”
Fern whimpers, helpless, then swallows. When she finally speaks her words hit me like a sledgehammer.
“They found out what it is that’s making him feel so awful. It’s not a migraine, Maggie. It’s a brain tumour.”
If Maggie looks stunned by my revelation, she can’t feel as shocked as I do. It’s still sinking in that this is actually happening to my brother.
It had been one hell of a night, with all of us sat on uncomfortable plastic seats in a strip-lit hospital corridor while we waited for any scrap of information we could garner from the white-coated medics that hurried past us. Mum had started wailing at one point, a deep and hollow baying cry that echoed horrifically around the clinical grey hallway while I’d stared at a poster about diabetes testing for three hours solid because if I focussed on that I didn’t have to think about all the awful tests Luke was so bravely enduring in another room. It had been, without a doubt, the worst night of my life.
“They’re going to operate on him as soon as they can, but he’s too run down right now. They’re not sure he’s strong enough to survive a ten-hour operation, so they’re treating the infection first.” I laugh, but it sounds empty and joyless. “It’s funny, isn’t it, that he’s got a bundle of cells attacking his brain and trying to kill him but they can’t try and remove it because he’s got a runny nose and a tickly cough.”
“The specialists at that hospital are nothing short of amazing. Honestly, they’re some of the best in the world. They know what they’re doing.” Maggie’s calm reassurance is exactly what I need. She’s the voice of reason. “So when are they hoping to operate?”
I shrug. “It’s hard to know. As soon as he’s well enough for the anaesthetic to not be a danger, I think. Days rather than weeks, from what they were saying.”
Repeating this information to Maggie keeps me centred. It’s almost as though when I’m relaying the cold, hard facts of the story it isn’t real, as though my baby brother isn’t lying on a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of his body and drips pumping him full of medication. I can pretend everything’s fine here, away from the stark, cold corridors of the hospital. I’m glad to be at the café and especially glad to be away from my parents, so I don’t have to watch them crumble for another minute. I’d never seen my dad cry before, but last night he must have cried every tear he’d stored up inside.
“It’s not going to affect my work though, I promise. The customers don’t need to know anything’s changed. I’ll still be here on time every day and I won’t be a misery. I won’t let you down.”
Maggie places her hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “You wouldn’t be letting me down by putting your family first, Fern. If you need to be at the hospital, you go. This should be the last place on your mind with Luke so poorly. Pearl can always do a few shifts if we need an extra pair of hands, so cover’s not an issue. I think she’s lonely, being on her own. She’d be glad to help out.”
“I’d rather be here,” I admit. “Although it’s good to know that Pearl’s available. I’d hate to leave you in the lurch if I need to dash off for whatever reason.”
I resist the urge to check my phone for the millionth time, just in case. I’d turned the ringer up to the highest volume and made my mum promise to call me if there was any news, no matter how small.
“Pearl’s more than happy to come whenever. That’s the thing about having family close by, they’re always on hand in an emergency.”
Pearl’s related to Maggie by marriage – she’s Maggie’s ex-husband’s aunt – and is a warm-hearted woman with a friendly smile. She’s usually being dragged around the park by her dachshund puppy, and has admitted that she sees the shifts she helps out with at The Lake House Café as some much-needed respite from her livewire canine companion.
“Hopefully there won’t be any emergencies,” I say grimly. “At the hospital we’re sitting around waiting for news and the time goes so slowly. I kept looking at my watch and the hands were moving that slowly I thought it had stopped. At least here I can find things to keep me busy, and it’ll do me good to see happy faces rather than wallow in self-pity all day long.”
“If you’re absolutely sure, then I’m always glad to have you. You know I couldn’t run this place without your input. But any time you need to dash off, you go. You don’t even need to tell me, just whip off your apron and get out of that door. Family’s important, Fern. I’m an only child, but I know that the bond between siblings is strong. Even though Kelly and Josh are tearing each other to shreds half the time, they’d be devastated if anything happened to the other.”
My heart sinks, Maggie’s words reminding me of my promise. I’ve got a phone call to make.
“Can I just have five minutes before I start my shift? I told Luke I’d ring someone to let them know what’s happening…”
“You take your time,” Maggie says soothingly, before switching on the radio. It’s playing a rock-and-roll song, the kind that’d normally have me tapping my feet along to the beat. Today I don’t feel like dancing. I don’t feel like much at all.
“I’ll go and clear that table,” she adds, humming quietly as she starts stacking the plates left by some of the morning’s early-bird customers.
Retrieving my phone from my pocket, relieved not to have any missed calls or messages, I scroll through the list of names. Café. Dad. Dentist. Doctor. They all flash before me before I see the name I’m searching for. I press the call icon, dread eating me up from the inside. I swallow as the phone rings once, twice, three times, and then a familiar voice answers with a sharp, and slightly irritated, hello.
“Kelly? It’s me, Fern. Luke asked me to call you…”
There’s a nagging burning sensation nipping at