2

I slept fitfully last night, dreaming of the moment I told everyone it was a mistake, staring out at a crowd of anonymous faces, listening to them cheer, only to wake up and realize my big reveal is yet to come and I can’t put up the banners just yet.

They should be phoning me from the doctor’s office today with my latest results. Dr. Mackenzie said he would put it on fast track. I wonder why I haven’t heard from them?

Shit!

I’m such an idiot. I’ve forgotten I unplugged my house phone and turned off my mobile when I didn’t want to speak to anyone. When I was in my hole. I mustn’t do that anymore. I can’t just burrow away from the world while I decide how to confront my future.

I turn on my mobile phone. It pings several messages. My voice mail starts ringing and just as I’m listening to the woman’s voice telling me I have twenty-one missed calls—twenty-one!–I hear my doorbell. I am glued to the spot, looking wretched in my dressing gown, torn between my phone and the front door, not knowing which to deal with first. The doorbell rings again, frantically. Whoever it is is holding down the buzzer. I throw down my phone. Who the hell can it be? The postman is never this aggressive. I peer through the spy hole.

OH GOD!

It’s Olivia with Dan. She looks gray and frightened. I immediately register why she’s there.

I want to skulk away and hide, but I owe her more than that. I open the door . . . slowly . . . guiltily.

“Jennifer! Shit, Jennifer! I thought you were dead!” She’s hysterical. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you answered your phone?” Dan is standing with his arm protectively round her as though I am the enemy.

“Come in,” I say. “I’m sorry. Everything’s okay.”

“Well, obviously!” she says, tearfully. “What the hell is going on? I mean . . . oh, God, I shouldn’t be angry, Jennifer, forgive me. I’m sorry to sound harsh, but we’ve been worried sick about you. You go away and then no reply.”

“Did you think Harry had murdered me?”

“Don’t joke. I thought I was about to find you spread-eagled on the floor. This is not a good time for you to cut yourself off from the people who care about you. It’s not fair.”

“I know, I know,” I say. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.”

“Well, good,” she says, drawing a jagged breath. She clutches my arm, her mouth downturned. “I’m just glad I’ve had the opportunity to be angry with you.”

I give her an apologetic hug, feeling more ashamed than ever. She’s about to say something but I stop her. “Olivia,” I say. “I owe you a huge apology. I’m sorry to have put you through that worry.”

She smiles halfheartedly. “Apology accepted.”

“And we all need a cup of tea and to put things into perspective because something rather weird and wonderful has happened.”

Olivia’s face registers curiosity. “It has?” She stretches her long neck, shaking her head and rolling her shoulders to relieve the aftermath of worried tension. “What? What’s happened? You’re going to marry Harry?”

I scoff. “I’ll tell you when we’re sitting down. Go into the sitting room and I’ll put the kettle on. How do you take your tea, Dan?”

“Milk, no sugar,” says Dan.

Olivia stares at him as if he’s lost his mind. “You’re talking tea?” she says. “I want to hear what’s happened!”

“Tea first,” I say. “Go and relax in the sitting room.”

Relax? I want to know. Now!”

“Sitting room!” I say, trying to josh her. “Behave, please.”

She looks at me with suspicion. “I’m not sure who should be told to behave. I mean, I’m not going to lie to you but when I saw your face at the door, I felt like throttling you.” She takes Dan’s hand. “Come on. Let’s leave the lady with the funny hair in the bathrobe to her tea bags.” She’s still pissed off.

I take in a tray with three mugs of normal tea and put it down on the sideboard. I’ll never touch ginger tea again. It tastes of death. It’s time to get back into my old routines.

Olivia and Dan are sitting tightly next to each other on the sofa, Dan looking out of place and uncertain, Olivia eager and restless. I hand them each a mug and Olivia’s eyes follow me wildly. “Well?” she says.

I sit down in the armchair, sip some tea, shut my eyes for a second, then blurt it out. “There’s been a mistake,” I say.

Silence. I look at both of them. Their faces are a picture.

“What do you mean?” says Olivia. “A mistake. What mistake?”

“A medical mistake. A good one.”

From nowhere, a wave of relief washes over me. I put down my mug, bury my head in my hands, and burst into tears.

I hear Dan whisper, “Should I go?”

“No!” Olivia mutters. And then tentatively she says, “What is it, Jen? Is it what I think?”

“They gave me the wrong test results,” I splutter. “I’m not dying. Of all things, I’m entering frigging menopause. I’m going to be hot and sweaty and moody and unpredictable, but I’m going to LIVE!”

She puts her tea down on the floor and throws her hands in the air. “I don’t believe it. I don’t bloody believe it!” She stands up and starts doing high knees on the spot. “Come over here, you silly old menopausal woman and give me the biggest hug ever. What were you waiting for, Jennifer? Were you going to wrap up the news and give it to me for Christmas?”

“Christmas,” I say. “I’d forgotten about Christmas. I’m actually going to see Christmas.” And I let out a visceral whoop.

We’re waving our hands in the air with joy, and Olivia grabs me and rocks me from side to side, like we’re doing a bad jive.

“I can’t believe it,” she sings. “It’s like a dream.”

“Tell me about it,” I say. “I’m not sure I’ve woken up yet.”

“Oh, you’re awake all right,” says Dan, reminding us of his presence.

“Come on, Dan,” I say. “This calls for a group hug.”

“Wait a moment, darling,” Olivia says to him. “I want this woman all to myself for a few seconds more. I need to feel her pulsing life force and know the nightmare is over.” She’s kissing my forehead, like some angry chicken pecking for seed. “God, I love you,” she says, in between lip strikes. “I had no idea how much until now. I think I was holding back the true depth of my feelings hoping it would be less painful to lose you. And now I don’t have to. And I don’t have to worry about your fucking funeral. I’m going to have you for a whole lot longer.” She nestles into my neck, hugging me so tightly I am almost struggling to breathe.

“I think you might just kill me in a minute, Liv,” I splutter.

She holds me away from her and smiles. “Sometimes you have to suffer for love,” she says. “Isn’t that right, Dan? Now, time for that group hug.”

He frowns at us bewildered. “I’m not sure I should intrude,” he says.

“Aw, come on,” I say. “Don’t be such a spoilsport. Get tucked in.”

Olivia and I open a chink for him in our circle.

He stands up. “Okay,” he says. “I’ve always wanted a threesome.”

“Keep wanting!” says Olivia, and we all three hug as tightly as we can.