You're the One That I Don't Want - By Alexandra Potter Page 0,136

her head bent over him, her thick curtain of blonde hair providing a screen of privacy as she gives him a kiss. Then he’s gone, disappeared into the lift and taken to theatre.

Then I’m there, right beside her, just as I promised, suggesting a walk outside and telling her not to worry, that he’ll be fine.

‘He’ll be fine,’ I say for the umpteenth time, as we sit outside in the quadrangle, drinking coffee. It’s a universal thing: bad coffee and hospitals, the same the world over, I muse, as I sip the bitter dregs from my plastic cup.

‘I know,’ nods Kate for the umpteenth time. ‘Of course.’ She stares silently into her cup, chewing her lip, and then, unexpectedly, I notice a lone tear roll down her face and splash into her coffee. One tear, that’s all, but it speaks volumes. I can’I prume her Cn’It remember the last time I saw my sister cry. In fact, I’m not sure I can even remember my sister crying. Ever.

I stare at her in shock as she lets out a whimper. ‘Oh, Luce, what if he’s not fine? What if it’s spread? What if—’ She breaks off, unable to say the words.

‘It’s going to be OK,’ I say quietly. ‘The operation will be a success.’

‘How do you know?’ She rounds on me angrily. ‘What if he’s not OK? What if he’s in the percentage that doesn’t make it?’

I flinch slightly, but hold firm. ‘Jeff’s a fighter. He’s not just some random per cent,’ I say determinedly, forcing my voice to remain steady. ‘He’s married to you, remember. He’s got to be made of strong stuff.’

She sniffs, despite herself, and gives me a small smile. ‘I just haven’t allowed myself to even think it, not for one moment,’ she confesses almost guiltily. ‘I’ve got to be capable. I’ve got to be the one who takes care of everything and everyone.’

‘You don’t have to be,’ I say firmly but softly. ‘No one expects you to be.’

‘Yes, they do. You do, Mum and Dad do, work does, everyone does.’ She adopts a different voice. ‘Ask Kate. Leave it to Kate. You can rely on Kate.’ She lets out a heavy sigh.

‘True, we do,’ I say, feeling guilty, ‘and it’s not fair. We shouldn’t rely on you like that, but it’s also up to you,’ I add. ‘You’ve got to tell us. You’ve got to stop taking so much on.’

‘But if I don’t, everything will fall apart.’

‘You don’t know that,’ I argue.

‘Yes, I do,’ she replies obstinately.

‘OK, so let it. Let it fall apart.’

Kate looks at me agog.

‘Seriously, Kate. So what if it does? It’s not life or death.’ As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to stuff them back in again. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, me and my big mouth—’

She cuts me off with a firm shake of her head. ‘No, you’re right,’ she says, her pale grey eyes meeting mine. ‘It’s not life or death. None of it really matters. Not trying to make some stupid partnership, or training for a silly marathon, or whether to choose the grey penny tile or the white subway for the kitchen . . .’ She trails off, and shakes her head as if in disbelief.

‘Bollocks, Luce,’ she curses, more to herself than to me. ‘I’ve been so incredibly stupid·€redibly sÀpid·€red. And blind. This whole time I’ve been thinking that all these other things were important, anxious about everything, worried about achieving stuff, and it’s just meaningless crap without Jeff. He’s what’s important. Without him nothing matters. Without him I don’t have anything.’ She looks at me and now her eyes are glistening and her face is blotchy.

‘All my life I’ve never failed at anything. I’ve been a straight-A student. I put in the hard work and the long hours and I get results, pass tests, run marathons and win promotions. It’s simple. Easy almost. It makes sense. But this doesn’t work like that. It’s so random. There’s no rhyme or reason to cancer, and it doesn’t matter how hard I try, or what I do, I can’t fix this. I’m completely helpless.’ She shakes her head. ‘For the first time in my life I don’t know what to do.’

I’ve never seen Kate look so lost and frightened and I feel a clutch of anxiety. As long as I can remember she’s always been this strong, capable sister. I’ve never seen her afraid and not in control, and until this moment