‘How do you know that?’ Vivi asked him, thinking he probably knew magic.
Twinkling, he said, ‘Didn’t Michelle tell you that I know everything?’
‘He does,’ Michelle asserted earnestly.
It wasn’t until after Paul and Michelle had dropped them off that Vivi said to her mother, ‘Do all daddies know everything?’
Ushering her along to the front door, Gina said, ‘I’m sure he knows where we live because Michelle’s mummy told him. Or maybe he knows Nana and Grandpa.’
Vivi felt a bit disappointed by that. ‘I wish you could marry him,’ she said glumly.
‘Oh, Vivi, don’t be silly,’ and pushing open the door Gina shouted, ‘Mum! Dad! Here comes our big girl after her first day at school. And you’ll never guess what, she already has a best friend.’
As Vivienne let the memory drift away she was remembering how she’d wanted to be the one to tell NanaBella and Grandpa that she’d made a best friend that day. Then the thought was gone as she saw Michelle leaning over her, except it wasn’t Michelle, it was a nurse showing concern with a smile that seemed to ask a question.
Was she waiting for an answer to something?
The nurse held up a mobile phone. ‘You’ve lots of messages,’ she said softly. ‘Would you like to read them?’
Vivi wasn’t sure what to say. It was hard to think straight, to know anything about what she did or didn’t want, apart from this not to be happening.
She didn’t want to connect with anyone’s pity. She understood they were sorry, that everyone was anxious to come and see her, but there was nothing they could do and she didn’t want them to try. It would only make everything worse.
Worse would be if they didn’t care.
‘I can read them to you if you like,’ the nurse offered.
Vivi looked at her round, olive-skinned face with its deep brown eyes and pear-shaped birthmark covering one cheek. She should probably know her name, but for the moment she couldn’t remember it, and realizing that, she felt tears sting her eyes. What was going to happen to her now? Who was she? Where was her mother?
She heard a voice and realized it was her own. ‘Arnie Novak is coming to talk to us in the morning,’ she said, naming the senior cardiologist. The nurse would already know this, but for some reason Vivi was feeling the need to say it. ‘My mother won’t admit it, but she’s afraid it’s going to be bad news.’
The nurse’s tender eyes gave nothing away as she said, ‘It’s natural for her to feel worried, but …’
‘I don’t seem to be getting any better,’ Vivi interrupted.
‘You’re stronger now than you were a week ago.’
Vivi didn’t argue, because it was true. She closed her eyes and felt the relief of giving in to exhaustion – it was so much easier than trying to fight it.
When Vivi woke up again Mark was there, plugged into his iPhone, probably watching the latest episode of Breaking Bad. He’d told her, when she’d first asked, that he was getting into The Walking Dead.
‘Good choice,’ she’d croaked drily.
‘I thought it was appropriate,’ he’d grinned, knowing it would make her smile too. They’d always had an easy, teasing relationship in spite of their difference in ages. From the moment her mother had brought him home from the hospital, all big blue eyes and grasping fists, Vivi had loved having a brother, and nothing had ever happened to change that.
Now, realizing she was awake, he tugged out his earbuds and removed his feet from the edge of the bed. ‘Hey, looking good,’ he said admiringly, looking a lot better himself than he had over the past few days. He’d shaved and made an effort with a comb, and with his naturally moody eyes, strong jaw and drop-dead smile he surely had to be the fittest nineteen-year-old going. Not that she was biased.
‘Where’s Mum?’ she asked.
‘Downstairs in the coffee shop with a couple of your work friends. Do you want some water, or anything?’
‘Water would be good.’
After sipping from the glass he passed her, she said, ‘You don’t have to hang around here, you know. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do …’
‘Hey, we’re only on season one of Breaking Bad. There are four more seasons to go after that.’
Lifting a hand she linked her fingers through his, careful not to dislodge the tube in hers. He was more man than boy now, almost six feet tall with toned biceps and broad shoulders, but he would always be her little brother. ‘It’s a good series,’ she told him, grateful for the distraction it had provided during the endless hours they were spending here, in spite of how often she nodded off. She couldn’t be entirely sure, but she suspected she was asleep more often than she was awake.
He shrugged. ‘Everyone said it was fantastic, but I never got round to it until now.’
‘Promise not to keep me here for the entire five seasons,’ she said wryly.
‘It’s a deal. Let’s aim for starting season two at home, yeah?’
Her eyes drifted at the mention of home. They both still referred to it as that, even though she’d left when she was eighteen and so had he. The only family they had in Kesterly these days was their mother, who’d moved back in with NanaBella after her marriage to Gil had ended. Gina now had the whole of number eight Bay Lane to herself, the last house of ten (there was now a 1A and 2A) past a private gate (always open) off the coast road. They were less than fifty metres from the towering coastal cliffs of Exmoor, with a back garden that climbed in wide, low layers up to a rocky ridge behind. Their front garden looked out over the circular turning space of the cul de sac to a wide stretch of sandy dunes that separated their house from the beach and constantly changing vista of the estuary beyond.
She and Mark still had their rooms at number eight, unchanged from the time they’d left, and always freshly made up in case they made a surprise return. All the neighbours they’d known while growing up had moved on now, having sold their desirable seafront properties to the London elite for use as holiday homes. Vivi had never understood why any of them would want a place in Kesterly-on-Sea when they surely could have afforded much more exotic locations on the south coast, or even in Europe. Never in a million years would she have chosen the dreary, depressing coastal town as a weekend or summer escape. She was a London girl through and through, she wanted colour, life …
She didn’t realize her eyes had drifted closed until she heard Mark say to whoever had come in, ‘I think she’s asleep.’
‘OK, I’ll stay for a while in case she wakes up,’ Gil murmured.
For the next few minutes Vivi drifted in and out of awareness, catching only parts of what was being said and who was saying it. However, it seemed Gil was going to be around for Arnie Novak’s visit tomorrow, and her mother, who had returned, was sounding grateful for it. Gil was such a good man, so gentle and considerate. She’d always feel grateful to him, love him, for the differences he’d made to her life during the time he’d been in it – differences he still made, in his way. Mark was lucky to have him as a father. Gil would be there for his son if the news wasn’t good tomorrow. He’d be there for Gina too if she’d allow it, but Vivi wasn’t sure that she would.
‘Why don’t you have a daddy?’ Michelle whispered.
‘I do,’ Vivi whispered back. She glanced at the bedroom door to make sure it was closed and no shadows were moving about in the cracks of light underneath. They were having a sleepover tonight, at her house, and she didn’t