‘Four is good.’

‘Zero is better. I think I broke this,’ she said, holding up the button.

He smiled. ‘Give it some time. Sick?’

‘No.’

‘I spoke to your husband. He was very worried but I told him you are great.’

‘Well then, you lied.’

He grinned. ‘You are great, lady, doing very well.’

‘Doesn’t feel like it.’

‘You want to sit up?’

She was sore lying on her back, but she was scared.

‘Nice and gentle,’ he said.

‘Nice and gentle,’ she repeated.

He raised the bed slowly and steadily, then leaned her forward. She cried out a little. He fluffed up her pillows and before she knew it she was sitting.

‘Thank you.’

She was covered by her gown but nothing else; if she dared to, she could just pull it down and see herself.

Not yet.

She could no longer avoid the fact that she had wires coming from her body connecting her to machines and bags.

Just like Rabbit.

Except it wasn’t like Rabbit. She didn’t have cancer. Not yet, and now, maybe, hopefully not ever. One operation down. One to go. Then freedom?

She could see her hands, the yellow cannula. The IV drip feeding her fluids made her knees weak.

Maybe I do feel sick. Do I? No, just dizzy. Urgh. Don’t look. Don’t look.

She could feel the drains coming from each breast. Definitely don’t look. Do not look.

She coughed. Ouch. Ow. Ouch. She pressed the button. One, two, three times. As she did it she could see the cannula move in her hand.

Bleuch.

‘Ahhhh it’s working again,’ she said.

‘I think you’re very brave,’ he said.

‘I don’t feel brave.’

‘What do you feel?’

‘Sensible.’

‘Well, in this case it’s brave to be sensible.’

‘You sound like my ma,’ Grace said.

‘Well then, she must be very smart.’

‘You’ve no fuckin’ idea,’ Grace said, and she chuckled a little. Ouch. Oh. Aw . . . ‘No laughing, no laughing,’ she said, pressing the shite out of the button. She fell asleep after that.

*

She woke to see Lenny sitting by her bedside, flicking through a magazine. The heavy blue paper curtain was pulled around the bed, creating a little cocoon and giving them privacy from the rest of the ward.

‘Hello,’ she said.

He kissed her forehead and rubbed her head. ‘Howya?’

‘I’m grand. You?’

‘I’ve had shorter days,’ he said.

‘What did you do?’

‘I walked the length and breadth of this hospital.’

‘Pity you weren’t wearing a Fitbit.’

‘I definitely exceeded my ten thousand steps.’

‘So you just walked for seven hours?’

‘Marjorie came, she brought you some pretty things.’

‘Really?’ Grace’s eyes leaked. ‘How lovely of her.’

‘We had a coffee and talked.’

‘And what did you talk about?’

‘You, and how lucky I am,’ he said.