The Lost Sister by Kathleen McGurl (i can read book club .TXT) 📕

Yorkshire puddings, and making homemade horseradish sauce. There was trifle for dessert – already made and setting in the fridge. She had the table set and the toys she kept for Jerome in a basket in the sitting room, plus his gifts from the cruise laid out on the coffee table ready for him, when the phone rang.

‘Mum? It’s me. Sally. God I’m so sorry to leave it this late, but we’re not going to be able to come today. Jerome’s not so well.’

‘Ah no, love. What’s happened?’ Harriet suppressed the pang of annoyance – she had so much food and now who would eat it? If Sally had called earlier, before she’d put the roast in the oven, she could have frozen it for some future occasion.

‘He just seems really fatigued today, and he’s saying his joints hurt. I can’t persuade him to get out of bed – he’s just lying there and shaking his head if I suggest he comes down to watch a DVD. Oh Mum, I’m so worried about him.’

‘When is his next appointment with the haematology clinic?’ Harriet did not know what to say to comfort Sally. Was there anything she could say that would help? It was all so unfair, poor little Jerome.

‘Tuesday. Mum, will you come with me? Charlie will be away on some conference he’s speaking at and can’t get out of. And I’m scared.’

Harriet’s heart broke for her daughter. ‘Of course I’ll come, love. Meanwhile, is there anything Jerome can take for the pains?’

‘I’ve given him Calpol. But it all seems so inadequate. He had three days at school last week and two this week, and I honestly thought he was getting better, and that the chemotherapy was showing signs of working, and now … God, now I’ve no idea.’

‘Do you think you should call a doctor today?’

Sally sighed. ‘I’m not sure there’s any point. We’re following all the advice we’ve been given for when he has bad days, and with the appointment coming up so soon, there’s not really anything they can do. But it’s heartbreaking to see him like this.’ Her voice caught on the last words.

‘I know, love. I know. If there’s anything I can do …’ Harriet’s voice tailed off. How many times had she said that to Sally since Jerome’s diagnosis? Too many to count, and yet there was so often nothing she could do.

‘Just, be there on Tuesday to keep me together. Look I’m so sorry about today. Hope you hadn’t bought anything special for our lunch.’

‘No worries about the food – it’ll keep.’ She’d be eating roast beef for a week but that couldn’t be helped.

‘Well, Tuesday, then. The appointment’s at 11.15 – I’ll pick you up at 10.45, assuming I can get Jerome up and in the car.’

‘Shall I come round before to help with him?’

‘I’ll ring you in the morning if I need you. Thanks, Mum. See you then.’

‘Bye, love.’

Harriet replaced the phone and went to check on the roast and the vegetables. Enough to feed an army. She sighed, then on a whim picked up the phone again and called Sheila. If Sheila was on her own today, maybe she’d come round and help make a dent in the food.

‘Roast beef, you say? Better than the cheese on toast I was planning! On my way, Harri. I’ve a Pinot Noir needs drinking – I’ll bring that.’

Harriet smiled. That was the response she’d hoped for. It had only been a few days but they could reminisce about the cruise.

And she could confide in Sheila her worries about Jerome.

Sheila arrived within half an hour, all trailing scarves and glittery nail polish. She went straight to the kitchen to open the wine she’d brought, pouring some for Harriet before asking after Jerome. It was as though, Harriet thought, she could see straight into Harriet’s soul and could read the anguish there. With a glass of wine in hand and the roast out of the oven and resting, Harriet felt strong enough to tell Sheila what Sally had said.

‘And now I am so worried. Oh Sheila. I’ve lost so many of my family. I never see my brother. I cope, kind of, with Davina’s estrangement. I’ve lost John which hurt more than I can say, but … God … if we lost Jerome too, I can’t even …’ She shook her head, unable to express how she felt. ‘It’s like my family’s dwindling, piece by piece. I want a large family all gathered around me, huge family celebrations at Christmas and birthdays. But every year there’s fewer people, not more.’

‘Harri, love, you’ve only properly lost poor John. The others – there’s still chance. Hang on in there.’

‘I’m trying. It’s so hard. And Sally needs me to be strong. As does Charlie – his own parents are gone, he has to lean on me too. How do I do it, Sheila? How am I going to be strong for them, if the worst happens and Jerome …’ She could not bring herself to say the word ‘dies’ after Jerome’s name. Those two words did not belong in the same sentence.

Sheila put down her wine glass, crossed the kitchen and gathered Harriet into her arms. ‘The worst is not going to happen, Harri. Trust me on this. Jerome is going to pull through, one way or another. I have a direct line to the Almighty, you know, and I’ve had words with him. Now’s when you need to be strong for Sally and Charlie. On Tuesday when Jerome goes for his appointment. There will be other treatments they can try, if the chemo isn’t working. Bone marrow transplants, radiotherapy, whatever – I’m no doctor. There is plenty of reason to be hopeful.’

Harriet allowed herself a few tears onto Sheila’s velvet-clad shoulder, but then in a gesture worthy of Sally, who rarely let herself crumple for more than a minute, forced herself to smile and wiped her eyes. ‘You are so wise, Sheila. Where did all that come