“But...but...”
Annie stood up. “Hey, by the way, you know those redundancies you’ve been holding over our heads for months now? Getting everyone to toe the line and work extra hours and keep their mouths shut? How about you give me one of them? Oh, and you’d be mad if you let Fee go. She’s the only one who does any work about here.”
She left the room, her vision swimming, her steps wobbly. Oh, God. Oh, God. She had to speak to Polly. Polly would think it was great.
No one looked up from their desks. They all stayed slumped at their screens, playing Candy Crush or scrolling through Facebook. Annie picked up her bag and coat, and powered down her computer. She looked around for one last time—the dead yucca plant, the invoice tray with the smear of ink, the dust ingrained in her keyboard. The square foot of the earth where she’d spent most of her life for the past four years. Her hands were shaking. She picked up the sparkly pens and posh tea bags and the little hyacinth Polly had given her. She opened her mouth to say something—Bye, everyone, hope you have nice lives, hope you get out of here, too, unless you actually like it, of course—then she closed it, and quietly walked to the exit, shutting the door behind her for the very final time.
*
“Okay, okay, stop whooping. I still got fired.” Annie held the phone away from her ear.
“You didn’t get fired,” said Polly. “You stuck it to the man. You made a break for freedom! Annie, this is awesome news.”
“Is it? Every time I think about the rent I want to throw up.”
“Rent, schment. You’ll find something. You’ve got some savings, yes?”
“A bit.” Things did add up when you never went out or bought anything nice.
“You can do whatever you want now. Shoot for the moon, Annie! Even if you miss you’ll be among the stars.”
“You do know the stars are millions of miles farther than the moon? That saying makes no actual sense.”
“Whatever. Never mind about work now. What you need is time to think it over. Regroup. Relax.”
“Uh-huh,” Annie said suspiciously. “What’s the plan this time?”
“Scotland,” Polly said happily. “Picture the scene, Annie. Herds of Highland cattle. Majestic snowcapped hills. A wee dram of whiskey to warm your cockles...”
“Are you working for the tourist board or something?”
“We’re all going. The doctors say I’m well enough to come out now, take a treatment break, and I’m not spending any more time in Lewisham. You, me, George, Costas and Dr. McGrumpy. We’re going to stay on his mum’s farm in the Highlands.”
“But won’t it be freezing? We couldn’t go to, say, Barbados?”
“I tried. He says I can’t fly, spoilsport, and can’t be too far from the good old NHS. Anyway, it’ll be nice. There’s tons of cool things to do up there, and we can cuddle up by log fires. It’ll be great. We might even see the northern lights. I always wanted to but I’ve missed it every time. Even went to Norway, Iceland—no lights. This’ll be my time, surely.”
As if the aurora borealis themselves would show up at Polly’s summons. After all, everything else did. “Well, okay. My diary’s suddenly become very clear.”
“Great. I’ll tell McGrumpy. He’s going to drive us all up.”
Annie had a brief vision of a blazing log fire, a fur rug and Dr. Max beside her, whiskey in hand, kilt on and...
No. Dear God, what was she thinking? She couldn’t have a crush on a scruffy grumpy doctor, especially not one who held her friend’s life in his big hairy-knuckled hands.
“Oh, and pack some warm clothes,” Polly added. “You can ski, right?”
DAY 51
Plan a holiday
“Mum, I’ve got some news.”
Annie’s mother was fidgeting, her hands restless on her lap. “What is it? Are you the dentist, dear?”
“No, I’m not the... Are your teeth sore, Mum?”
She peered over Annie’s right shoulder, at nothing. “It was the toffees did the damage. Sally always did like them, but they pulled her teeth right out!”
“Right, okay, Mum, but try to listen, okay? I’m going away for a few days, but I promise I’ll be back soon. It’s only Scotland.”
“Oh, you can say hello to Andrew, then.”
Annie frowned. “Andrew? Mum, what do you mean?” Why was she suddenly mentioning him all the time? When Annie was growing up her father had been almost a taboo subject, brought up only as an answer for why Annie couldn’t go to university or on the school ski trip. We aren’t made of money. Don’t wish for the moon. “Mum? Did you understand what I said?”
“Of course,” she said crossly. “You’re going on holiday.”
Her mother used to always come over when Annie and Mike went on holiday, to water the plants, collect the post and doubtless have a good snoop in the cupboards. They’d usually come back to find every piece of china taken out and washed in baking soda. It had been annoying—Mike had always rolled his eyes—but at least there was someone looking out for her. Now she wasn’t even sure her mother would notice she was gone. “That’s right. You see, I’ve been fired from my job. Well, I quit.”
“Your job?” Her eyes passed over Annie, watery blue.
“I’m sorry, Mum. I promise we’ll be okay. I just couldn’t stay there for another second.”
“Quite right, too, dear. Why should you be working, a young girl like you? You should be at home looking after your kiddies.”
Annie watched the hands. “Mum, are you all right? You seem restless.”
“Oh, I just wish I’d brought my knitting. The queue is so long in this dentist’s. I feel like I’ve been here for weeks!”
She hadn’t knitted since her diagnosis, but before that she’d been an expert, capable of intricate patterns—socks, hats, jumpers, the works. “I can get some wool, Mum. If the doctors say you can have knitting needles.”
She saw Dr. Quarani approach. “Hello, Doctor. I’m just trying to explain I’m going away.”
“So I hear.” He made a mark on the chart. “Dr. Fraser, too. It’s his first holiday in five years. Try not to worry, Ms. Hebden. I’ll take care of your mother. She won’t be distressed if you don’t come for a few days.”
No, because she still had no idea who Annie was. Sometimes she didn’t even remember she had a daughter at all. Sometimes she thought she was five, or eighteen. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
She wondered when he’d last had a holiday himself. He was always so controlled, so distant. It was hard to imagine him having a life at all.
DAY 52
Buy new clothes
“No way,” Polly said decisively.
“But I like it!” Annie held it protectively. It was her favorite hoodie; she’d had it since she was seventeen.