Page 63 of One More Time

‘That, Charlie Wilson, we most certainly are.’

* * *

Ava pulled the car to a stop at the hospital door. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you and Mum, Dad?’

Charlie shook his head. ‘No, love. You go home and get some rest.’

‘Okay.’ She seemed unsure about doing so. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, poppet.’

Trying to ignore the raw pain of the stitches over where his breasts used to be, Charlie took slow, steady steps through the doors of the oncology ward. Grace was where she’d been the past two weeks, right by his side. News of his cancer had spread fast and wide, and their friends and acquaintances in the local community had rung, sent cards and flowers and called in with food to express their support.

Sitting them both in a pastel-coloured room, the head nurse explained the entire process in explicit detail. She then got him to sign a consent form. Charlie couldn’t help but feel as if he were signing his life away.

Passing both the pen and paperwork back to the nurse, he looked to Grace. ‘I would like you to go and enjoy a bit of sunshine while I get my treatment.’

‘But Charlie, I want to be here with you.’

‘I don’t want you sitting around with me. You’ve done enough of that.’ He waved her toward the doorway. ‘Now, be gone with you.’ He flashed her a cheeky smile.

She considered him hesitantly. ‘Okay, but make sure you call me if you need me.’

He gave her a confirmative nod. ‘I will.’

The nurse offered Grace a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll call you as soon as he’s finished, Mrs …’

‘Wilson,’ Grace replied. ‘Grace Wilson.’

Hearing her saying his – their – last name, Charlie couldn’t help but smile proudly as their gazes met, and held – so much was said in that silent moment.

‘See you soon.’ Grace stood and watched him being led through a swinging door.

‘Yes, when I’m looking at you,’ he replied.

After settling him into an armchair, a bubbly nurse approached him, pushing a trolley filled with syringes, bandages and medicines. ‘Hello, Mr Wilson.’ Her accent was very English, but not the posh kind, more cockney. ‘I’m Kelly, and I’m going to be your chemotherapy nurse today.’

‘Hello, Kelly. Call me Charlie, please.’ With nerves running amok, his smile wavered.

‘Okay, then, Charlie it is.’ She quickly got to work and inserted a needle through the implanted port-a-cath under his collarbone. ‘I’ll make sure to go slowly, seeing as this is your first time, okay?’

His throat tight with angst, all Charlie could do was nod.

Over the following minutes, Kelly checked in to see how he was doing. All went better than he’d expected until the final injection, which made him feel like his head was on fire. He told her as much. ‘Is it normal to feel like this?’ He held his skull tightly, feeling as if it were about to explode.

Her brown eyes filled with kindness as she crouched down at his side and placed a gentle hand over his. ‘It can be very uncomfortable, Charlie, but yes, it’s normal, for lack of a better word.’

Charlie squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, wishing the time would speed up so Grace would be back by his side.

By the time that rolled around, he was feeling very under the weather. He was glad for the love of his life being back at his side, not only because her presence brought him immense comfort, but because he knew he wasn’t going to remember everything the head nurse was telling them.

‘For the first few weeks, as you can see, you’ve got quite a few tablets to take, but the good news is, after that initial period, the rest of your chemotherapy is tablet-free,’ she said, passing the packet over to Grace.

Well, that’s a small plus.

Slipping in and out of a drug-fuelled sleep, by the time he was wheeled to the car and Ava had driven them home, Charlie was extremely nauseous and quite breathless. With Grace not leaving his side for a second, he threw up four times throughout the night, and found it hard to keep sips of water down, even with the gentle encouragement of Grace.

Come morning, it was time for Grace to rest, and Hope arrived to take over.