Louisa George - The Other Life of Charlotte Evans

‘And what have you read?’

‘That it’s probably nothing. That we’re being hasty… but you see so much stuff, right, on the internet? Everything’s about cancer. But you haven’t got it. You’re too… vibrant to be ill.’ This was the most he’d said about it at all. Since that hug on the day he’d found the lump he’d kept a distance, but so had she. They usually shared everything, but some of the panic they’d kept to themselves. ‘Anyway, whatever happens, we’re walking down that aisle in six weeks. And we’re eating cake. Okay? So we’d better get a wriggle on and choose which kind.’

Tears pricked her eyes and her throat was so full, so raw, there’d be no way she’d get even a tiny morsel of food down it. ‘Okay. Okay. So you’re not completely repulsed?’

He sighed. Blew out, hard. ‘By what? You? Come on, Charlie, give me some credit. I’m a copper. I see a lot of bad things. You are definitely not one of them.’

‘I didn’t mean… me. I mean… this.’ She pointed to her chest.

‘I’d love you with no breasts or three breasts.’ He wrapped his arm round her shoulder and tugged her against him, pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head. ‘For God’s sake, don’t do this. Don’t doubt me.’

Now she’d made things a hundred times worse between them, when he’d bought her flowers and brought her here in an effort to make her feel better. Blood rushed to her cheeks. She was ruining everything by concentrating on the wrong things. Even though her brain kept sliding towards the lump and her growing need to discover what was going on in her genes, she had to stop. Stop all this thinking and focus on the things that mattered to her and Ben, not just to her. She looked down at her new non-paint-streaked work top and tried to lighten the rapidly deteriorating mood. ‘Hey, maybe that’s what’s happening… Maybe I’m just growing another boob. Put me in a circus – we could make some money.’

That put a flicker of a smile on his beautiful face. ‘It’d pay for the flowers, I suppose. They weren’t cheap.’

‘They’re gorgeous.’

He shrugged. ‘You deserve them. I know I can be pretty strung-out about money, and it’s for good reason, but perhaps we can be a bit more flexible every now and then.’

‘We’re just building a life. We have a plan. It’s okay.’

‘Yup. But we can splurge every now and then. You’re worth it.’

Charlotte’s heart started to slow. Things were getting back on an even keel again. ‘I’m sorry for the wobble. I seem to be having a few of them at the moment. I think I might have upset mum earlier too. I didn’t mean to. But I told her I was thinking of looking up my birth mother. Well, I didn’t exactly say that… but we talked about it. About her.’

‘That seems a bit out of left field, Charlie.’ He looked at the tray of cake. Shook his head. The poor cake fairy was probably in her back office hearing every word and not knowing whether or not to come out. Weddings. Cancer. Adoption. All in one visit. That was pretty heavy for a Thursday evening and they hadn’t had even one mouthful yet. ‘You’ve never even mentioned her really.’

‘It’s not something I talk about, because who wants to hear it?’ Ever since Michael Maloney she’d trained herself not to mention it. Life was easier, safer, if she was on the receiving end of fewer clumsy questions and comments about being given away, sowing the seed that there was a possibility it might happen again if she got too difficult, challenging. That didn’t mean she hadn’t been thinking about it, though. ‘I’ve often wondered… thought about her. And I’ve been thinking about her a lot more recently. About this. My genes.’

‘What did Eileen say?’

Charlotte thought of her adoptive mum dragging her hand away. Not wanting physical contact with her just because she’d asked a question. She shuddered. ‘That I had other things I should be focusing on.’

Ben shrugged. ‘She could be right. You do have a lot on at the moment.’

‘The lump… yes, but maybe searching for her might take my mind off things.’

He frowned. ‘I was thinking about the wedding, actually. But yes, the lump too.’

‘Oh God, I’m sorry. Yes. Yes.’ How could she tell him that her interest in flowers and cake and wedding dresses had diminished to almost zero? The only thing she could see on the horizon was a black shadow zapping all the fun and anticipation. She needed to focus on positives. ‘Yes. There’s still a lot to get done.’

‘Yip. So listen, it’s all overwhelming and you’re probably all over the place. You are allowed to freak out a bit, but now we’re going to rise up and fight… okay? Together. We’re a team, Charlie.’ He tugged on her hand, wrapped his fingers into hers and made a tight fist. His smile showed her he only wanted to help, to smooth her journey. ‘We’ve got this.’

‘We most certainly have.’ She squeezed her fingers in his too. He was right; they were a team. A bloody formidable one at that. And the countdown was on. Whatever else happened in their lives, they had less than two months before they made that ultimate commitment to each other, and there was still a lot of work to be done and decisions to be made. So she needed to somehow rediscover her interest in wedding bouquets and silk and lace and push everything else to the back burner. She owed him that, owed them both. One little lump wasn’t going to derail their plans. Not at all. Their love was stronger than that. Hell… she was stronger than that. ‘Eek! We’ve got a whole wedding to organise and I’ve dropped the ball a bit, to be honest. No problem. We’re on this.’

He tipped her chin to look into her eyes. ‘Too right. If you need any help, ask me. Okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘Now, baby, have some cake. Please.’ With his free hand Ben picked up her fork and fed her the double-chocolate, which was so divine she pretended to swoon. Then he gave her some of the red velvet and smiled – the tension drifting away, leaving just them and their promises and this minute, and this one… And she smiled too and fed him some carrot cake. He pigged his eyes and copied her swooning and they were back to situation normal.

Thank you. Thank you, Ben. Thank you for making me laugh , she said silently, leaning into him and hoping some of his strength would leach into her. Remembering, too, to be grateful for the small things, which were often the most important. Being silly. Laughter. Moments of love.

While they lasted.

Chapter Four

It was amazing how quickly things moved when you had money. No matter how much Charlotte had refused, her mother had pushed for a quick appointment, so here they were, the very next afternoon, pushing open the heavy wooden door with the golden plaque bearing the name West London Breast Clinic.

The place looked like a hotel, not a private hospital. With blonde stone and marble floors it oozed grandeur and wealth. It was everything the NHS GP surgery wasn’t: plush, spacious, tidy. In any other situation Charlotte might even have been excited about going into such a place. ‘Wow. Very glam. If only I wasn’t feeling quite so nervous. All the gilt and marble is a bit intimidating.’

‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’ Ben squeezed her shoulder, but the tremble in his hand gave him away. ‘Look at the sculptures and the artwork. Now you know where half the consultation fee is going.’

There were huge, comfortable chairs in the waiting room and in each of them sat women a lot older than Charlotte. All of them looked glum. Anxious. Which made Charlotte’s worry quota escalate a hundredfold.

‘Miss Evans?’ A lady with a smart chic French knot smiled across the reception desk, her voice rich and welcoming… and the loaded seriousness of her words made Charlotte’s heart race. ‘Dr Carter is waiting for you. Room two. Down the corridor, third on the left.’