The Mix-Up by Holly McCulloch

CHAPTER 36

Since Bobbie’s harsh but well-meant words, I’ve been doing all I can to ignore them.

And this should be a relatively easy task. In addition to my looming biopsy result, since breakfast on Monday and the publishing of the article, my phone and inbox have been busier than they have been in months. I know that not every person I speak to will end up ordering a cake or suggesting me to their couples, but my pipeline is looking healthy. Healthier than it has in years. And the best bit – most people are happy to give me free rein over the design. It’s a baker’s dream.

But now, all I am doing is sitting in silence. No emails to distract me. No phone calls to take. The silence and stillness are hard to handle.

‘Is it just me, or is the smell of paper towels really strong in here?’ I look at Sara.

Once again, she’s come with me to the hospital. She doesn’t say anything, but she does shrug. I look around the waiting room. I can see the offensive blue things above the shiny stainless-steel sink in the corner. I can also see a window. I don’t think I’m allowed to crack it open, it’s only there to tease you, so instead I remain seated on a wipe-down chair. I know it makes sense to have easy-to-clean chairs in hospitals, but it always makes me wonder – has my chair had to be cleaned? What events has it lived through? Should I have picked a different chair? Should I stand and pace instead?

I look at the clock. Dr Levenson was meant to be here by now, but I can’t begrudge her being late. She’s never late without a reason. I know that I made her late on many occasions. But nevertheless, sitting on this side of the fence, I do wish she would just come and tell me what’s happening. Or at least tell me how late she thinks she’s going to be.

Sara must be able to sense the angst coming off me. It’s probably got something to do with my leg that won’t stop twitching. ‘We could play another round of golf?’

In this context, golf is a card game that requires very little concentration but is just distracting enough to quieten the mind. We’ve already played a few rounds. She let me cheat a bit, not so I won, but so I lost a little less.

I shake my head and try to still my leg by pinning it down and crossing over the other one. ‘No, it’s fine.’ The twitch transfers. My crossed leg starts swinging up and down. ‘I’m sure she’ll be here soon.’

At this point Sara gets up and goes to speak to the receptionist.

‘Hi. Do you know how long Dr Levenson’s going to be? There’s no rush, but I just thought if she’s going to be a while, we might go for a walk.’

The receptionist peers past Sara and looks at me. I am shaking and probably looking a bit pale. She nods.

‘She’s running about fifteen minutes late. If you give me your number, I can call when I know she’s coming up.’

I look away. My leg won’t stop shaking.

‘Want to go for a wander?’

I know she’s cleared it. I know I won’t miss my appointment but still. ‘No. I’m fine.’

‘OK.’ Sara does one of those half-smiles and sits down next to me, hugging her bag.

The next minute stretches out in front of me. I was nervous to come here today. I told myself it was just because of the test results, and it is, but only partly. Every time a vaguely Noah-shaped, scrubbed-up person walks past me I look. I hope. And eventually I am disappointed. Without my emails to distract me, Bobbie’s words replay in my mind. They are very loud, and I can’t help but agree.

I am a fucking idiot.

I look at Sara, and something becomes really clear.

‘I don’t want you here.’

She blinks and looks a bit stunned. It takes me a moment to figure out why.

‘Oh shit, no. Sorry that wasn’t meant to come out. And it isn’t quite what I mean.’ I pick up my bag. ‘But I do need to do something.’ I stand up. ‘I love you and you are and always will be my best friend. But right now, I kinda wish someone else was here instead.’ I look at the clock. ‘She said fifteen minutes, right?’

Sara nods. ‘Right.’

‘OK.’ I look at the door and then back at Sara. ‘Do you think I should …?’

She nods again. ‘Yes.’

‘What if he—?’

She shakes her head. ‘He won’t.’

‘Do you mind if I …?’

She smiles back. ‘Not at all.’