before you go to work?’ she asked, casually, planning on holding the mug but not drinking anything, as per her hospital appointment instructions.
‘Can do, love. I’m not meeting the warrant officer until later. I know, let’s really push the boat out and have a biscuit as well.’ He reached for the digestives and shook them in her direction. ‘Living the dream, Pop!’
‘You’re easily pleased.’ She beamed, hesitating. Then she took a deep breath. ‘Mart?’
‘Yes, love?’ He waited for her to speak.
Poppy felt her stomach flip with nerves, still unsure how to begin.
The front door bell rang.
‘Bugger it,’ Poppy muttered under her breath as she made out Jo’s outline through the glass. She sighed and opened the door, searching for a smile. It quickly faded, however, at the sight of her friend. Jo’s face was streaked with mascara, her tears running like liquorice stripes down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and swollen and her mouth quivered.
‘Oh, Poppy!’ Jo fell against her friend, who wrapped her in her arms and patted her back, like she did the kids.
‘Hey, it’s okay, love. It’s okay,’ she soothed.
‘No, it isn’t okay, nothing is. I don’t know what to do!’
‘Come and sit down. What’s the matter?’ Poppy steered her towards the sofa and watched as her friend, seemingly weakened, slumped down onto the cushions, shredding the damp kitchen roll that she twisted in her fingers.
Poppy felt her heart hammering in her chest. Had something happened to Danny? It was a constant unspoken fear for them all. Poppy thanked God that Martin was home. She braced herself, ready to hear Jo’s news.
Jo shook her head. ‘I just can’t believe it. I can’t.’
‘Can’t believe what?’ Poppy coaxed. ‘Have you had a shock?’
‘A bloody shock? I should say so. I keep hearing his voice, telling me over and over, and it won’t sink in, it just won’t. It’s not bloody fair.’
Poppy sighed. ‘Whose voice? What’s not fair, love?’
‘Life! Life’s not bloody fair!’ Jo sounded angry.
Poppy ran her tongue round her dry mouth. ‘Have you heard from Danny?’
‘Yes. This morning, earlier. He phoned, the fucking coward.’
Poppy sat up straight, shocked to hear Jo’s language and sentiment. Maybe it was the shock. ‘He phoned?’ It didn’t make any sense. If he was hurt…
‘Yes, can you believe it, ten years of marriage thrown away with a bloody phone call. He said being away has given him time to think. I could have screamed. All I’ve
got
is time to think, too much time! I could kill him, I could. He’s a fucking coward, couldn’t wait till he got home and pay me the courtesy of a face-to-face conversation. That’s all I got – a muffled phone call, no doubt with half of Bastion listening in. All these years, trying for a baby, it was all I ever wanted and they said it probably wasn’t me and now those years are behind me, what a waste. Too fucking old and he took those years from me!’
All thoughts of her illness flew from her mind. Poor Jo. Her lovely mate did not deserve this. ‘Jo, you need to calm down and tell me exactly what Danny said.’
‘He said he wants a divorce, said he hasn’t been happy for a while and that I should pack up my stuff before he gets back as he’s given up the quarter.’
‘Shit!’ Poppy sat back and rubbed her face.
‘Yes.’ Jo nodded in agreement as she unfurled the remnants of her tissue. ‘Shit.’
Martin skulked out of the kitchen. ‘Think I’ll leave you girls to it.’ He gathered up his jacket and beret and left the house.
Two hours later, Poppy lay in the austere, echoey room in her blue hospital gown. She was on a narrow, white, fixed bed that looked part kitchen counter, part supermarket conveyor belt. Above her hovered a large white machine that reminded her of something you might see at the dentist’s or in one of those vintage episodes of
Star Trek
, like the ones she’d watched in her
‘Can do, love. I’m not meeting the warrant officer until later. I know, let’s really push the boat out and have a biscuit as well.’ He reached for the digestives and shook them in her direction. ‘Living the dream, Pop!’
‘You’re easily pleased.’ She beamed, hesitating. Then she took a deep breath. ‘Mart?’
‘Yes, love?’ He waited for her to speak.
Poppy felt her stomach flip with nerves, still unsure how to begin.
The front door bell rang.
‘Bugger it,’ Poppy muttered under her breath as she made out Jo’s outline through the glass. She sighed and opened the door, searching for a smile. It quickly faded, however, at the sight of her friend. Jo’s face was streaked with mascara, her tears running like liquorice stripes down her cheeks. Her eyes were red and swollen and her mouth quivered.
‘Oh, Poppy!’ Jo fell against her friend, who wrapped her in her arms and patted her back, like she did the kids.
‘Hey, it’s okay, love. It’s okay,’ she soothed.
‘No, it isn’t okay, nothing is. I don’t know what to do!’
‘Come and sit down. What’s the matter?’ Poppy steered her towards the sofa and watched as her friend, seemingly weakened, slumped down onto the cushions, shredding the damp kitchen roll that she twisted in her fingers.
Poppy felt her heart hammering in her chest. Had something happened to Danny? It was a constant unspoken fear for them all. Poppy thanked God that Martin was home. She braced herself, ready to hear Jo’s news.
Jo shook her head. ‘I just can’t believe it. I can’t.’
‘Can’t believe what?’ Poppy coaxed. ‘Have you had a shock?’
‘A bloody shock? I should say so. I keep hearing his voice, telling me over and over, and it won’t sink in, it just won’t. It’s not bloody fair.’
Poppy sighed. ‘Whose voice? What’s not fair, love?’
‘Life! Life’s not bloody fair!’ Jo sounded angry.
Poppy ran her tongue round her dry mouth. ‘Have you heard from Danny?’
‘Yes. This morning, earlier. He phoned, the fucking coward.’
Poppy sat up straight, shocked to hear Jo’s language and sentiment. Maybe it was the shock. ‘He phoned?’ It didn’t make any sense. If he was hurt…
‘Yes, can you believe it, ten years of marriage thrown away with a bloody phone call. He said being away has given him time to think. I could have screamed. All I’ve
got
is time to think, too much time! I could kill him, I could. He’s a fucking coward, couldn’t wait till he got home and pay me the courtesy of a face-to-face conversation. That’s all I got – a muffled phone call, no doubt with half of Bastion listening in. All these years, trying for a baby, it was all I ever wanted and they said it probably wasn’t me and now those years are behind me, what a waste. Too fucking old and he took those years from me!’
All thoughts of her illness flew from her mind. Poor Jo. Her lovely mate did not deserve this. ‘Jo, you need to calm down and tell me exactly what Danny said.’
‘He said he wants a divorce, said he hasn’t been happy for a while and that I should pack up my stuff before he gets back as he’s given up the quarter.’
‘Shit!’ Poppy sat back and rubbed her face.
‘Yes.’ Jo nodded in agreement as she unfurled the remnants of her tissue. ‘Shit.’
Martin skulked out of the kitchen. ‘Think I’ll leave you girls to it.’ He gathered up his jacket and beret and left the house.
Two hours later, Poppy lay in the austere, echoey room in her blue hospital gown. She was on a narrow, white, fixed bed that looked part kitchen counter, part supermarket conveyor belt. Above her hovered a large white machine that reminded her of something you might see at the dentist’s or in one of those vintage episodes of
Star Trek
, like the ones she’d watched in her
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