“Hey, come on.” Awkwardly, he held out his burly arms. “It’s going to be fine. Calm down. Deep breaths.”
Annie found herself squashed up against him, his lanyard digging into her cheek. Dr. Max was hugging her. She was hugging Dr. Max. She pulled back a little, dazed, and his face was very close to hers. As if in a kind of trance, he put up a hand, one of his capable surgeon’s hands, and stroked her cheek. “Annie. It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“I...” Was he going to kiss her? Surely not. He was Polly’s doctor, and the show was about to start any minute, and no one had kissed her in years, and why would he fancy her, anyway? But he wasn’t pulling away.
The moment continued. Annie held his gaze. Thought of Mike, and Jane. Her heart still felt like a raw piece of meat. What if she kissed him and fell in love with him and got hurt again? She wasn’t sure she could stand it. But shouldn’t she take a risk? He was just so nice. He smelled of soap, and coffee. His arms were so solid around her.
“Annie!” Damn it. Polly was standing behind them, frowning. “What are you doing?”
Annie stiffened and pushed at his chest. Dr. Max stepped away, clearing his throat. “Annie wasn’t feeling well. Just a bit of nerves, I think.”
“We’re ready to start now.”
She pulled herself together. “Great, great. I’ll just...”
“Um, I better...” Dr. Max began to shuffle away.
“Okay...” She watched him walk away.
“Are you ready?” Polly was still frowning.
“Sorry. Yes, yes, I am. Let’s do this.”
*
Afterward, Annie could only remember the night as a blur. Sequins, lights, laughter and sighs from the audience, applause. The sound of tapping feet on the stage of the lecture theater, which normally only showed slides about disease. A place full of death, death and more death, and they’d filled it with life, loud and bright and shimmering. At least on the stage. Behind it things were a little more fraught, everyone losing their costumes and makeup and cues and dance partners. Annie raced around with her clipboard, barely seeing any of it. By the end she was doused in sweat, sure that she had a damp oval on her back, and her feet were aching. She could hear the final applause now, as George stood making a speech. He’d been onstage the whole night, smiling, entertaining, totally in control. You’d never have known he was the same man weeping in the loos. It was so easy to put on an act, Annie realized. She wondered what would happen now. Would he ditch Caleb, as Polly wanted? Or keep going back for more? She knew it wasn’t as simple as leaving the minute someone hurt you.
She stopped to listen for a moment.
“Ladies and gentlemen, nurses and doctors, parents, patients. Tonight, we’ve done something wonderful. With online donations, we’ve raised an incredible sixty thousand pounds.” There were gasps. Annie’s mouth fell open—how could it be so much?
The lecture screen behind George flickered into life, and Annie saw a fundraising page, the target exceeded hundreds of times over.
George was saying, “To explain why this money is needed, I’d like to introduce possibly the most annoying patient in the history of this hospital—my sister, Polly.”
Thunderous applause. Annie’s head swiveled, and then she saw Polly come onstage from the other wing. She was moving slowly, as if her back hurt, but she was waving and smiling. Annie saw Milly and Suze standing up in the front row, ready to film the whole speech and put it online.
“Hi!” said Polly. Annie could hear her voice was cracked, her throat dry. “I won’t keep you, as I’m sure you all need to get home.” Meaning, Polly needed to get home. “A few months ago I was diagnosed, right in this hospital, with a brain tumor.” More murmurs of sympathy. She barreled through—that would have annoyed her, Annie was sure. “I know, I know, that sounds awful—and I guess it is—but I can honestly say I’m not brave, I’m not a noble cancer sufferer. The people who are brave and noble are in this room—and also not in this room because they’re still working, changing IVs and updating charts and bringing people drinks and cleaning operating theaters.” Polly looked around at the audience, the staff members crowding into the wings and the aisles of the theater, and she was smiling, despite her exhaustion. “When I imagined where I might die, it wasn’t in Lewisham. It would have been on a tropical island somewhere, maybe in a tragic speedboat accident at the age of ninety.” Laughter. “But now that it’s happening, I feel truly lucky. If I have to die, I can think of no better place to do it than here, with these people taking care of me.”
Annie’s hand went up, shaky, to wipe her face. Was Dr. Max here? She hoped he was hearing this. But probably he was off twiddling with someone’s skull or fighting with the vending machine or drinking one of his horrible triple espressos. She hoped he wouldn’t be angry with her after that weird moment. Maybe he hadn’t been about to kiss her, anyway. Why would he, when the hospital was full of pretty women who all thought he was God’s gift to neurology? It was all so unsettling.
Then she realized everyone was staring her way. She shrank back into the shadows. Polly beckoned to her. “So, as I was saying, the whole credit for dreaming up this amazing night goes to one person. Everyone, please thank my friend Annie.”
Oh, God. She had to go onstage. Oh, Lord. And she was sweaty and her hair was all sticking up. She shuffled forward, blinded by the lights. An impression of hundreds of faces watching her. Everyone was clapping. Polly was pushing her to the microphone. Oh, God. She had to say something. She could feel all the sweat up and down her back. “Er, hi.” This was being filmed. Argh! “It’s not really down to me—it’s everyone who took part, who spread the word, who donated to the online fundraising, who bought tickets...uhhh. But I just want to say that Polly was right. Even in my lifetime of being reasonably healthy, this hospital has so far helped me have a baby, then sent an ambulance to try and save him when he died.” She was aware of George’s sharp double take. He hadn’t known. “It’s also helped my mother when she can’t remember who or where she is. And it’s helping my friend Polly. So, I just want to say...we will probably all need a hospital at some point in our lives. If you haven’t yet, you will, one day. So please support them. All of them. Please don’t let them be destroyed. Just—please. We can’t live without them. Quite literally.” She stepped back, shaking with adrenaline. She’d said too much. She’d gone political.