Another Way to Fall. Amanda Brooke

left,’ Emma began but the words caught in her throat as she realized what she had said. ‘I mean the time I have before I start treatment, the treatment Mr Spelling is offering me.’

      Meg smiled through her pain. ‘All right, but I am insisting on one thing. I want you to move back home with me.’

      Heat rose in Emma’s chest, a toxic mix of panic and anger. She felt like she was being pulled back in time to when she had first been diagnosed. Back then she had been forced to give up a promising marketing career in London and return home to Liverpool and her mother’s care. She had stayed with her for nearly two years before summoning up the courage to move out. The thought of giving up her independence once again was too much to bear.

      ‘But your apartment isn’t big enough for all of us,’ Emma told her, playing for time as the dust settled on the latest bombshell to hit her that morning.

      At the moment, Louise was staying in Meg’s spare room, having rented out her own flat above the bistro when her business started to flounder six months ago. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not under any illusions that you and your sister could share a room,’ said Meg. ‘But right now your needs come first and I’ve already run the idea past Louise. She’s going to move out.’

      ‘So much for positive thinking,’ accused Emma as she realized her mum had been planning for the worst despite insisting that everything would be alright.

      Meg chose to ignore the comment. ‘You can’t manage on your own, Emma. There’s your medication to keep track of, not to mention the possibility you could have more seizures, and then there’s just the simple fact that someone needs to keep an eye on you, look out for any changes which you might not notice yourself. At the very least, you need help building up your strength so you’re strong enough to deal with, well, whatever awaits us.’

      ‘Me, whatever awaits me,’ corrected Emma. ‘I’m twenty-nine years old, Mum, and I’ve grown up a lot in the last few years. I’ve had to. I can look after myself and, besides, I don’t live alone.’

      Emma shared a house with Ally and Gina. She had known Ally from school and it had been her oldest and dearest friend who had been instrumental in securing her a job at Bannister’s as well as aiding her escape from her mum’s clutches. She would do all she could to help Emma stay in the house if it was what she wanted but Emma already knew that placing that kind of responsibility on someone’s shoulders was too much to ask of anyone, anyone that was except the one person who would always give her love and support unconditionally.

      ‘And I have Alex,’ Emma added but as the words slipped off her tongue in a last desperate attempt to make her case, she knew the argument had already been lost. The idea that Alex would be there for her wasn’t particularly credible when he was already conspicuous by his absence. ‘I’ll have to speak to the girls first. They’ll have to find another lodger.’ Meg shifted uneasily and Emma’s eyes widened in shock. ‘You’ve already spoken to them too?’ she gasped.

      ‘They said not to worry. You come first. We all want what’s best for you.’

      ‘I think you had better go and phone Louise,’ Emma said.

      In her wisdom, Meg nodded but said no more. She had won the argument but the tone in Emma’s voice suggested that the decision could still be overturned.

      As Emma watched her mum disappear down the ward, she desperately felt for her phone. Pulling it from her pyjama pocket, she imagined Alex anxiously waiting for her call.

      Emma’s phone had been switched to silent mode all morning. No telltale vibration had announced a missed call or text message but the empty call list still left her disappointed. With a heavy heart, Emma tapped briefly on the keypad and waited for the call to be answered.

      ‘Emma?’ Alex shouted over pounding music and inane chatter.

      ‘Where are you?’ Emma asked, as loudly as she dared. The ward was deathly silent other than the occasional groan from a fellow patient or the clatter of a hospital trolley.

      ‘We’re having lunch at the pub,’ he explained. ‘The latest sales figures are looking really good and Mr Bannister insisted. I couldn’t refuse.’ There was a pause as Alex waited for Emma’s response. Her silence prompted him to ask what she had expected to be the first thing on his mind. ‘But enough about me, I’ve been thinking about you all morning. How did it go? What’s the news?’

      Emma became acutely aware of how life beyond the confines of the hospital walls had been carrying on regardless – another blow to her bruised emotions. Her earth-shattering news hadn’t even caused a ripple. She felt a brief swell of anger as she imagined their celebrations, celebrations that she should be party to. She deserved a pat on the back as much as anyone but her anger was swiftly quashed by a more powerful wave of despair. There were worse things in life. ‘My tumour’s back,’ she said stoically.

      The background noise continued unaffected.

      ‘Alex? Are you still there?’

      ‘I’m sorry, Em. I really am,’ he said. ‘I feel so bad that I wasn’t there for you. I wanted to be with you, honestly I did.’

      ‘It’s alright,’ Emma said, surprising herself that she should be the one comforting him so quickly but that was so often the way. She hated her illness, not simply for what it was doing to her but the hurt it inflicted on those around her. ‘I’ll speak to you over the weekend when you’re less busy but I should be out on Monday anyway.’

      ‘I’ll come over to see you then, I promise.’

      ‘There’s just one thing,’ Emma told him. ‘I’m going to have to move back in with Mum for a while.’

      ‘Maybe that’s for the best. You’ll need a lot of looking after.’

      Emma was tempted to tell him that she wanted him to look after her. She wanted him to be the one to wrap her in his arms and tell her she was going to be alright but she took the easy option. She said nothing.

      ‘We’ll get you through this,’ he added. ‘We’ll all help.’

      ‘I know,’ she said, but she didn’t know at all. It was an automated response to an automated offer and perhaps they both knew it.

      ‘I’d better go,’ Alex said to fill the pause, ‘but we’ll speak soon. Love you, Em.’

      Emma kept the phone to her ear until her link to everyday life was severed and silence returned. She felt drained as she closed her eyes and she didn’t resist when she began to slip towards slumber, freeing her mind to take her on a journey of its own.

      In her dreams she was still sitting in Mr Spelling’s sun-filled office, looking out of the window towards a group of forlorn trees. A handful of bedraggled leaves, silhouetted against the crisp blue sky. Her focus centred on a single leaf that had survived the autumn gales, holding on staunchly to its branch as it prepared to brave the winter frost. Without warning, a vicious gust of wind spun it into the air, where it twirled out of control, leaving sparks of orange and gold as it fluttered in the sunshine. Its descent was inevitable and it came to rest on a pile of leaves whose skeletal remains were being crunched underfoot by passersby who were blissfully unaware of the devastation around them. Emma tried to look away but the vision followed her as she twisted and turned to escape its grasp.

      ‘Emma, are you OK?’ Meg asked as she gently brushed away strands of Emma’s damp hair from her sweaty brow.

      Emma opened her eyes but struggled to emerge from her dream. She felt disorientated and for a moment she was transported back twenty years. She half expected her mum to tell her that she had the flu and wouldn’t be going to school that day.

      ‘I’ll get you some water,’ Meg said when Emma didn’t respond other than to open her mouth to expose dry lips.

      As Meg busied herself pouring water from a jug, Emma’s eyes settled on the window opposite. The afternoon was growing old but there was still enough light left in the day to reveal a thin scattering