Ginny and Roxy. Day 22, Sunday, noon
Through the large, oblong window, Roxy and Ginny watched Vera, still lying in the bed that had transported her back from surgery, with a spaghetti-bowl of wires coming from different parts of her body and connecting her to machines that beeped, ticked, swooshed, pumped and made mathematical graphs on a little screen.
A nurse bustled back and forward between the room and reception, eyeing the girls suspiciously every time she passed. Roxy wasn’t surprised. After all, Ginny’s arrival the night before had been relatively low-key…compared to, say, a fifty-strong SWAT team storming a foreign embassy.
Mitch had been first through the door and Roxy had jumped up and leapt into his arms. ‘Mitch, she’s sick, she’s really, really…’ Then Roxy had spotted the other face right behind him. She’d wondered where Mitch had disappeared to–he’d been gone far too long just to be nipping out for coffees and fresh air.
And then Ginny was coming towards her, arms outstretched, tears streaming down her face. Closer, closer, she was almost right in front of her when…
‘Noooooo, don’t touch me, you traitorous bitch!’
Roxy had started flailing, her hands lashing out, swiping at every bit of hurt and anger and loathing that had been growing inside her for weeks.
‘I don’t want you here, I DON’T WANT YOU…’
Ginny’s hands were around Roxy’s arms, holding them tightly, desperately trying to stem the blows. ‘Roxy, don’t do this. Babe, please! Don’t do this!’ she’d sobbed.
Roxy had wailed and pushed her away, propelling Ginny backwards until she hit the corridor wall. And that’s when she’d seen it. It was hanging over Ginny’s T-shirt, a mirror image of her own. The surprise had stopped her in her tracks and she’d stared at it. The other half of her heart.
Her tears had been silent by then, flowing down her face faster than her sleeve could absorb them. ‘My heart,’ she’d whispered.
Ginny’s expression had changed from horror to puzzlement, then to understanding as she’d realised what Roxy had seen. Of course…Hadn’t Vera and Vi given them the same birthday present every year of their lives? Twenty-seven years of joint parties, joint presents, joint lives. And now their mothers had just given them a gift that proved what they’d always known–they were two halves that belonged together.
Even if one of those halves wanted to kick the crap out of the other.
‘Don’t, Roxy, please,’ Ginny had whispered. That was when Roxy had slumped backwards, all her aggression gone, allowing Ginny to move forwards and take her in her arms, where she’d stayed, her face nestled into Ginny’s hair, until Mitch had gently guided them back to the row of orange plastic seats.
And that’s where they still sat, watching Vera through the window. Just watching. And waiting.
Sitting to Vera’s left, clutching the hand that didn’t have three probes dangling from it, was Violet, tears streaming down her face, her lips moving, talking incessantly to her unconscious friend, while a doctor made notes in a chart beside her.
Roxy stood up, crossed to the window pulled the sleeve of her hoodie down over her hand and then used it to wipe away another shower of tears that were coursing down her cheeks. She leaned against the wall, then slid down it until she was in the foetal position, her hands clasped round her knees.
‘She can’t die, Ginny. She can’t die. She can’t. It’s like, like I’m only just getting to know her and if she dies then…’ Her whole body was racked with convulsions as the sobs stopped the oxygen from reaching her lungs.
‘She’s not going to die, honey, she won’t. The doctors said the surgery went okay…’
‘But that the next few hours will be crucial!’ Roxy cried. ‘Why didn’t they say she was going to be fine, Ginny? She can’t leave me. She can’t.’
Ginny crouched down beside Roxy and pulled her towards her.
‘Ssssh, Rox, ssssshhh, it’s going to be okay. I promise it’ll be okay. Do you want to go back in there again?’
Roxy wiped away more snot as she shook her head and whispered, ‘No, s’okay. Let your mum stay for a while, it’s time she got her turn. Fucking stupid rules. One person to a bed. Are they worried we’ll break out the cocktails and have a party?’ Ginny squeezed Roxy a little tighter, aware that Roxy’s way of dealing with this alternated between distraught, overwhelmed, needy and angry, interspersed with very occasional moments of poignant sweetness.
The door opened, and as the consultant doctor came out, Roxy and Ginny jumped to their feet. He was tall, late fifties, with very distinguished grey hair and the kind of upright reserved manner that sat somewhere between confidence, arrogance and delusions of omnipresence.
‘Miss Galloway?’
‘Yes,’ Roxy replied fearfully.
‘We’ve switched your mother’s ventilator off…’
The wail was so loud that the relatives of several coma patients on the same floor would later swear that their loved ones had twitched.
‘Miss Galloway. MISS GALLOWAY! She’s breathing on her own.’
Roxy stopped abruptly. ‘You mean…she’s not dead?’
‘She’s not dead. The next few hours are still very important, but so far she’s doing as well as can be expected.’
He marched off down the corridor to traumatise some other poor, unsuspecting family.
‘Come on, hon, why don’t we go down to the canteen and get some tea? She’s stable now and you’re worn out. We’ll ask the nurse to buzz straight down for us if anything changes or she needs you,’ Ginny coaxed gently.
Roxy thought about it for a few seconds then touched her hand to the window.
‘I won’t be long, Mum,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t go dying on me.’
They took the elevator down to the floor below and followed signs for the restaurant. It was something of an exaggeration–twenty oblong Formica tables, orange plastic chairs, a few vending machines and one small serving hatch with a large half-empty fruit basket, a tea urn, a coffee machine and three glass domes covering an array of rolls and sandwiches.
‘Aw, look at him,’ Roxy whispered, pointing to a corner table.
There, his head cushioned by a rolled-up jacket on the table, was Mitch, sleeping soundly.
‘Shall we wake him?’
‘No, just leave him, he’s been up all night and he must be knackered. I told him to go home when we got here but he wouldn’t have it,’ Ginny revealed.
For the first time that day, Roxy smiled. ‘He’s a good man. Stubborn, but good.’
The knot in Ginny’s stomach tightened. Everything had changed now. Only a few hours before she’d been so sure of what she wanted. She’d had to kiss Jude that last time just to be sure and it had proved her right–she was still thinking about Mitch. (Okay, and maybe she’d just wanted to snog that delicious mouth again, but come on, who could blame her?) That’s when she’d decided that she had to tell him, and to hell with how Roxy felt. After all, Roxy had slid off the moral high ground while clutching Darren’s penis. But now…now everything was different.
They served themselves some tea and put a few pound coins in the honesty box, then sat at the table next to Mitch, both of them silent at first. The passing of the first wave of trauma had left them drained and displaced, and now they weren’t sure how long they’d have to hold their breaths before the next one came.
Ginny caved first. ‘It’s good that they’ve got each other, isn’t it?…Our mothers,’ she replied to Roxy’s questioning look. ‘I wonder what my mum was saying to her up there.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘What’s my mother got to be sorry about?’ Ginny replied, puzzled.
‘No, I’m sorry. I’ve been hating you, really hating you lately, and–although I had good reason–I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re here.’
Even if Jude had just walked in, dressed as a doctor, and proceeded to strip while singing the Holby City theme tune, Ginny wouldn’t have been more surprised.
Roxy was apologising?
They sat in silence for a few moments. ‘Okay, I can’t stand it any more,’ Roxy said eventually. ‘If we’re going to be here for hours then we need to talk, so you go first.’
‘I’m sorry, Rox, it’s just that, you know, under the circumstances, nothing seems appropriate.’
‘Ginny, my mother just keeled over during the opening act of The Vagina Monologues so I think we can safely say “fuck appropriate”. I’m going to go crazy if I have to sit here in silence, so can we just be us? Talk about anything. Anything. Tell me what’s been happening at the Seismic, tell me about Jude, tell me about anything.’
‘Tell me about Darren,’ Ginny blurted. Shit, she hadn’t meant to do that. It was the last thing she wanted to bring up now.
Roxy sighed, then, after a few moments of pondering the question, matched Ginny’s gaze.
‘I gave him a blow job.’
‘I know.’
‘How?’
‘He told me.’
‘Yeah, well you deserved it for fucking Felix.’
Ginny groaned. ‘I did not sleep with Felix!’
Roxy took a deep breath, ready to launch into a nuclear offensive.
‘He thought I was you, you daft cow!’ Ginny blurted.
Nuclear mission aborted.
‘What?’
‘I was in your bed, I was sleeping, he let himself in with his key, stripped off, climbed into bed, felt me up, then he realised it was me and freaked out–which was not only very unfortunate, but also very unflattering.’
Roxy’s eyes were the size of side-plates. ‘You are kidding me! And what happened next?’
‘Jude kicked him out.’ Ginny melted just a little. Jude. He’d been so sweet that night.
‘So you didn’t…?’
‘No penetration. Zilch. No sex, no exchange of fluids, and no big, dramatic affair.’
‘And you haven’t seen him since?’
‘Rox, what part of all that didn’t you get? He ambushed me, it was a huge mistake, and he was as horrified as me. When he was with you he was a twat, when he did that to me he was a twat, and it’s a pretty safe bet that he’s still a twat. I could quite happily pop my clogs without ever setting eyes on him again.’
Ginny realised what she’d said just a fraction too late as Roxy tensed and looked upwards, as if some cosmic power could allow her to see into the room above her.
Ginny reached over and held her hand. ‘I’m so sorry, hon, that was a really tactless thing to say.’
‘S’okay–I gave your boyfriend a blow job.’
The insuppressible burst of laughter almost woke up Mitch, and it took a few seconds for sobriety to regain control.
Both women stared at their clasped hands in the middle of the table, acutely aware that the scene was replicated upstairs.
‘Do you think I should go back up now?’ Roxy asked.
Ginny reflexively checked her watch. ‘Why not give my mum another ten minutes while you finish your tea. She and your mum always did have a lot to talk about.’
‘Do you think they ever get sick of each other?’ Roxy asked.
‘I don’t know. If they do they hide it well.’
‘Unlike us.’
‘Unlike us.’
‘So. How’s my life been? Did you hate it or have you started telling people you’re me and stealing my Prada bags?’
Momentary surprise caused Ginny to stutter.
‘Oh, you know, it’s…erm…fine.’
‘Fine? Ginny, my life has never been fine, my life is fabulous. Okay, what’s happened? Don’t tell me you went out with the girls from work? Oh, you did! I can see it in your face! Don’t tell me that you got pissed and then you snogged some random bloke and haven’t been able to sleep since.’
Ginny flushed. Was that what Roxy really thought of her? Did she think Ginny was so boring, so unadventurous that something as trifling as a snog would upset the equilibrium of her life?
‘Look, just forget it. This isn’t the time or the place.’
‘Oh my God, you slept with someone! You did! Apart from Felix, that is!’
‘I did NOT sleep with Felix!’
‘Yeah, yeah, I got that, but I can’t promise not to throw it in every now and then just to rile you.’
Roxy suddenly sat back and appraised Ginny from head to toe.
“Oh. My. God. I’ve just realised how different you are. You’ve had your hair done. You’re not wearing man-made fibres. And don’t think I didn’t notice that about two minutes ago you said “penetration” without turning purple in mortification. It’s like you’re a whole new you. But you’re still a crap liar so out with it–who was it?’
‘Nobody.’
‘Who was it?’
‘NOBODY.’
‘Ginny, imagine I’m on my deathbed and you’re baring your soul and you have to tell me everything. And don’t refuse because it’s my mum who’s lying upstairs and you can’t upset me at a time like this.’
Ginny couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Don’t you dare try to use emotional blackmail on me at a time like this!’
Roxy shrugged. ‘Look, I might have forgiven your indiscretion with Felix but that doesn’t mean I’m perfect.’
Ginny was incredulous. Crazy, incorrigible, shallow, inappropriate Roxy–oh, how she loved her.
‘Okay, it was Jude. I slept with Jude.’
Roxy’s head fell into her hands. ‘Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I should have warned you. I know he’s so lovely and so perfect and so utterly fucking shaggable, but he’s…he’s Jude. Are you crushed?’
Indignation was setting in again. ‘Why would I be crushed?’
‘Because,’ Roxy began, bewildered by Ginny’s reaction, ‘wasn’t it a one-night stand in between his dates with the rest of his harem? He’s so not for you, Ginny. He’ll break your heart.’
‘What makes you think I’d let him? Roxy, I’m a grown-up. Here’s a newsflash–I can handle my life, I can handle men, and I can handle Jude–in fact, I did so many times!’ Ginny was spitting the words out now.
‘Oh yeah? And what about Cheska and Goldie?’
‘Oh, trust me, Roxy, I can definitely, definitely handle Goldie.’
It was all Ginny could do not to purse her lips and click her fingers after that last statement. Note to self, she thought–must stop watching the Tyra Banks show.
Roxy picked up the innuendo immediately and her chin almost hit the table. ‘You slept with Goldie? Behind Jude’s back?’ she gasped.
Ginny was biting her tongue now, horribly aware that she’d said far too much. After a lifetime of bickering you’d have thought she would have developed better coping strategies and stored them in her brain under ‘To Be Used When Roxy’s Fingers Are On My Buttons’.
‘You gave my boyfriend a blow job!’
‘Piss off, you’re not using that to get out of this! I can’t believe you went behind his back.’
Ginny wasn’t sure what to say. Was this one of those times where honesty was more important, or where secrecy prevailed? Honesty? Secrecy? Honesty? Secrecy? Honesty…
‘Only about six inches. Actually, sometimes there was no distance at all.’ Her eyes squeezed shut with mortification as she confessed all.
Cue uncomprehending pause number 453 of the conversation so far, followed by astounding realisation number 676.
‘You had a threesome! Holy fuck, I hope they’ve got one of those heart-machine shocky thingies on this floor!’
‘A defibrillator.’
‘Don’t you dare go all MENSA on me at a time like this!’
Thankfully, Roxy’s attention was diverted by Sam and Destiny, who at that very moment burst into the room, Sam clutching a huge bouquet of flowers and Destiny looking slightly out of place in full make-up, a tight, belted mac and six-inch silver glittery platforms. She might have got away with it if it weren’t for the three-foot tail dangling under the back of the coat.
Sam embraced Roxy, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. ‘I hope it’s okay that we came. Jude called to say Ginny wouldn’t be in today and told us what happened.’
Roxy, reaching yet another twist on her emotional roller coaster, burst into tears.
‘It’s–[sob]–so–[sob]–good–[sob]–to see you!’
Ginny headed off to the urn for reinforcements while Roxy gave the newcomers the medical update. Ginny threw some biscuits on the tray too–well, she was Violet’s daughter.
They were down to the last HobNob when Roxy, having re-calmed herself, had a moment of realisation.
‘Sam, who’s running the Seismic if you are both here?’
‘Actually, I don’t work at the Seismic any more. I was just there clearing out my desk when Jude called this morning.’
Ginny nearly had a fatal tea-choking incident. ‘You got fired! Hold on, you can’t get fired, you own the place. Oh, no, Sam–the bailiffs? I thought the club was doing really well.’
‘It is, but I don’t–own it, I mean. My mother owns the Seismic. But the day before it opened she buggered off with some count to Monte Carlo, and all our money was in the club so I had no choice but to take over and run it until she came back. You met her, Ginny–the other night, remember? Tall, black hair, the whole hugging-in-reception thing?’
‘That was your mother? She’s gorgeous!’
Sam made a rueful grimace. ‘And unreliable, and irresponsible, and flighty, and self-centred…but hey, sometimes she’s adorable too. So anyway, it’s all over with the count and she’s back to reclaim the club.’
‘Are you devastated?’ Ginny asked, oozing concern.
‘Devastated? I’m thrilled. I hated every day of working there–no offence, Destiny, but it wasn’t for me. I’m thinking I might set up in business on my own–something that doesn’t come with a vibrating cupboard. But it depends on…stuff.’
Was it Ginny’s imagination or was Sam staring a bit too intensely at Roxy when he said that? Was Sam…? Did Sam…? Was that the reason for all the questions? All the little chats that, now she came to think about it, were all in some way related to…Roxy. No! The poor guy was going to be so crushed when he found out about Mitch.
Mitch. Ginny glanced over at him, still sleeping soundly, his neck at an angle that was going to cause days of discomfort. Why? Why had it taken her this long to realise how she felt about him? Why had she let her relationship with Darren numb her to everything that was going on around her and inside her? And why, why did he have to be going out with the one person that she knew she could never, ever intentionally hurt?
Even if that person had given her ex-boyfriend a blow job.
‘Roxy, sweetheart…’ Violet had joined them and everyone spun to greet her, her arrival a stomach-churning reminder–not that they needed one–of why they were there.
Violet’s shining eyes and ecstatic smile answered their questions immediately.
‘She’s woken up and the doctor has just been in again and he thinks she’ll be okay!’ The tears were flowing again. ‘And she’s talking, Roxy–she’s asking for you.’
Roxy leapt out of her seat, but Violet stopped her. ‘Hold on, love, you can help me take up some tea. She’s asking for it, and the doctor says it’s fine to let her have some. The nurse offered but your mother does love my tea.’ And off she bustled in the direction of the counter.
Sam caught Destiny’s eye and they both stood up. ‘We’d better go–we just wanted to drop these off and make sure you’re okay. And your mum too,’ he blustered. ‘Make sure your mum was–you know…And she is. And…and that’s great.’
Ginny’s heart went out to the poor, stuttering bloke. For the first time in living memory, Roxy was puffy-eyed, red-nosed, and so dishevelled she bore a faint resemblance to the bag lady outside Superdrug, yet Sam still couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Eventually, Destiny gently nudged him out of the way so that she could give Roxy a huge kiss and a long hug.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind about coming back?’
Roxy shook her head. ‘Nope–I reached the “Y”s in the career book…’
‘You read a book?’ Ginny joked.
‘Cover to cover. And I had an epiphany.’
‘Is that something I should be offering as a service?’ Destiny giggled.
‘A youth worker. I’m going to be a youth worker. It’s a long story, but I’ve found my calling,’ she announced proudly.
‘Well, that’s the future of the country screwed then,’ Destiny replied tartly. She turned her attention and hugs on Ginny. ‘And what about you, my darling–will you be back?’
Ginny shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, D, I don’t think so. I only had another week to go anyway–but I think I’ll head back home to help Mum and Vera.’
Destiny answered by kissing her full on the lips then clutching her heart as she wailed dramatically, ‘But baby, how can you leave me–I was the best shag you ever had!’
Unfortunately for Roxy, this was said just as she was pushing herself to her feet. She immediately slumped back down in her chair.
‘I hope there’s a space in that bed next to mum.’