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

‘No idea. Whatever happens, Harri, remember I am here for you to lean on. So when Sally leans on you, you lean on me, and somehow there’ll be enough strength to hold everyone together. You were there for me through my messy divorce and again when I had breast cancer – I am here for you now, and always.’

‘You are such a good friend. Anyway, I think that beef’s rested long enough now. Shall we?’

Sheila grinned. ‘Thought you’d never ask. Let me at that beef. I’ve been eating vegetarian all week and it’s lovely but right now I could murder some red meat.’

‘You are in the right place, then.’ Harriet ushered Sheila to the table and brought out the food, while Sheila topped up their wine glasses. Midday wine was such decadence but she felt she deserved it. There might be rough days ahead.

On Tuesday, the day of the appointment with the haematologist, Sally picked Harriet up as planned, with Jerome sitting in the back seat of the car tucked up in a blanket.

‘Hello, my favourite little man,’ Harriet said, leaning over from the front seat to kiss him. ‘How are you today?’

Jerome pushed his bottom lip out into a pout and turned away, leaning his cheek against the back of the seat.

‘He’s tired, the poor thing. Didn’t want to have to come to hospital today. But we have to go, don’t we, Jerome? To find out how we can make you better.’ Sally’s voice was artificially bright, and Harriet could hear the agonised worry behind her words.

She smiled at her daughter and caught her hand to squeeze. ‘Shall we go, then? And afterwards, when we get back, I’ve got some little presents from the cruise for Jerome, if he’s been good. How about that, eh?’ But Jerome just shrugged, uninterested. Harriet bit her lip. For him not to care about the offer of new toys he must be feeling very poorly indeed.

Sally started the engine and drove them to the hospital. Harriet tried to keep up a stream of light conversation for the whole journey, telling Sally about the cruise, the near miss with the container ship, and the genealogical research she’d been continuing with. She could tell her daughter was only half listening but if it helped her to keep her mind off Jerome’s sickness then it was a good thing.

At the hospital, Sally dropped Harriet and Jerome off at the entrance while she went to find a parking space. ‘Come on then soldier, let’s go and sit in the waiting room,’ Harriet said to her grandson. He leaned against her leg and looked up at her, his eyes looking far too large for his head. ‘Can you carry me, Nanna? My legs hurt.’

‘Of course I can,’ she said, leaning down to scoop him up. Just as well he was small for his age, she thought, as he wrapped his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist. His weight was at the limit of what she could carry, but she was not going to show that she was struggling. Thankfully the haematology department’s waiting room was not far and she was soon able to put him down on a chair and sit beside him. ‘Phew! You’re growing into such a big boy, you know.’

Jerome gave her a small smile and cuddled up to her, his thumb in his mouth just as he used to do when he was a toddler. Sally came in a moment later, registered their arrival with the reception desk, and sat on the other side of Jerome. Harriet reached over to her and squeezed her hand.

It wasn’t long before Jerome’s name was called, and this time it was Sally who scooped up Jerome to carry him through to the consulting room. In the room, the consultant Dr Windletter sat, perched casually on the corner of his desk. To one side was a support nurse – a blonde woman who smiled reassuringly as they came in and took their seats. Her name badge read ‘Alison’. She handed Jerome a picture book to look through, but he just tucked it under one arm and made no effort to open it.

Harriet glanced at Sally. She’d gasped when she entered the room, as though she’d sensed there was going to be bad news. Usually, Harriet knew, it was a registrar that they saw – not the more senior consultant. Perhaps that in itself meant that things weren’t going too well?

‘So, young man, how are you feeling today?’ the consultant asked.

Jerome put his thumb in his mouth and climbed onto Sally’s lap in response.

She shook her head. ‘Not good. He’s very tired. Didn’t want to get out of bed at all today. He complains of pains in his arms and legs. He’d had a good couple of weeks when he was well enough to go to school, but we seem to have … gone backwards.’

Harriet noticed the way her voice caught on the last word, and how she’d dipped her head, pressing her lips against Jerome’s head, to hide the fact tears had come to her eyes. Alison silently handed Sally a tissue which she took with a weak smile.

‘Hmm. Well, we have the results of his last blood tests here,’ said the consultant. ‘And I’m afraid it does show that the chemotherapy has not had as much of an effect as I’d have liked to see …’

The rest of the consultation passed in a blur. Harriet tried hard to take in everything Dr Windletter said, knowing that Sally might well be missing some of the important points. Usually when Charlie was with Sally, he would make notes and ask questions and ensure they got as much from the appointment as possible, but today it was up to her to listen properly. But it was so difficult – if the chemotherapy wasn’t working, what did that mean for Jerome’s chances? It was unthinkable that he might not make it …

Thankfully afterwards Alison led them into a