smell of gladioli. One minute she would be there and the next she would be gone. The recent thoughts of her, the ones that seemed real… He’d dismissed them all. He’d been told to dismiss them. But still, he hadn’t been able to shake them.
‘How are you finding this?’ Clive asked, forgetting all the things he’d planned to ask.
‘Surprising,’ Nancy said, twiddling a bracelet and glancing at that rather than him.
The links of the simple gold chain sparked something in Clive. Something he was able to catch hold of for a change.
‘Are you my Nancy?’
The gloss became formed tears that puddled in the corner of her eyes. ‘Am I?’ she asked.
It was hard to process what was going on. His Nancy had died. And then he’d been told it was nonsense… Made-up memories caused by illness. It wasn’t possible, and yet…
‘I think you might be.’
Was she? There wasn’t a true representation of what Nancy looked like in his mind. When he thought he’d found her, he didn’t get a look at her face. What existed of Nancy was a feeling. A knowledge that he’d been completely in love.
‘I am, but it’s been fifty-five years.’
‘So long?’ he said, his voice catching in his throat. He found tears rolling down his cheek, matching hers to create another set.
Nancy nodded, making feeble attempts to wipe away her tears.
‘What happened?’
‘I can’t.’ Nancy shook her head.
Clive still had her hand in his and cradled it closer to him, like it was a precious gem. As if by holding on to it, he’d capture the essence of this moment. He didn’t fully understand her upset, and yet the tears were pouring and in contrast he was experiencing a sense of euphoria. He wasn’t sure what the exact word was… He’d never come across one that was the exact opposite of mourning. But he was being filled with joy. Bursting with it, in fact.
‘It doesn’t matter now, does it? Can we start from this point with our matching outfits? Can we make these five minutes count?’ If Nancy wasn’t so upset, he’d propose on the spot. He didn’t want the rest of the five-minute dates when he’d found the love of his life on the first table.
‘I need to take a moment. Just some fresh air,’ Nancy said, as she got up and headed for the door.
Clive didn’t know how to react, so he turned to Keisha in the hope she knew some of the answers.
‘How did you…? What did you…?’ Clive’s sentences were running away from him before he was able to complete them. This was impossible.
‘We weren’t sure if you’d remember her.’
There was a frustration building up in Clive. The grumpy old man who’d been in hospital was returning. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? My God. She’s alive. And no one thought to let me know before I sat down on a table in front of her for five minutes. Don’t you think fifty-five years of loss deserves more than that? No wonder she’s upset.’
‘It was my idea,’ Tess said, before Keisha was able to explain.
‘We honestly weren’t sure you’d know who she was. We thought it was better to see if you realised rather than tell you.’
The explanation was baffling, but then again so was everything in Clive’s life at that moment. He’d spent a lifetime carrying on with his routines, knowing something was missing, but not able to find what it was. Now he knew. And she’d just walked out of his life in tears.
Unlike the dates he’d observed Keisha have, he wasn’t going to let the chance of true love walk out on him. He wasn’t about to miss an opportunity in real life by scrolling through posts on Facebook.
‘I’ve got to go,’ Clive said.
But as he reached the street outside and tried to work out which way Nancy had gone, there was a chance that he was a lifetime too late.
Part IV
The Left Ventricle
This is the thickest chamber of the heart, responsible for pumping oxygenated blood back to the body.
In other words, it’s the beginning of a journey…
49
Keisha
I can’t respond. I should be responding, but my fingers are pressing up against my neck, willing the jumping to go away.
This isn’t how this should be working out.
‘Go!’ Tess implores.
Every conversation in the café is on a pause, with people staring at me. They’re all wondering what has just gone on and I want to tell them how badly I’ve mucked up. About how despite my years of study, I don’t know how