The Girl Who Cried Wolf(38)

After initial concern regarding my speech, Mr Raj is regretting his competent success, as by week two I am shouting at him once more.

‘I look like bloody Frankenstein!’ The hand mirror shows ugly criss-cross stitches across the left side of my head.

‘Anna!’ My mother sounds suitably shocked. ‘Do not speak to the doctor like that after all he has done for you.’ She shakes her head crossly and I look like I may kill her as she goes on to say, ‘And Frankenstein was the creator, not the monster!’

Michael thankfully steps between us and tries to calm me as I have been raging for an hour. He wipes tears from my eyes with his thumbs. ‘Your hair will cover the scar in no time. Remember that your chemo and radio are done, angel, and your hair will grow back quickly so no one will ever know there was a scar there at all.’

His soothing voice works. He has never called me ‘angel’ before, which I rather like. Although I avoid Izzy’s eyes as I know they will be dubious at his term of endearment.

I slam down the mirror on the table in front of me and let out a dramatic sigh as my mother replaces my favoured head scarf from Dr. Braby. I cannot wear a wig until the swelling and scarring has healed.

‘There,’ she says as I smack her fussing hands away. ‘Do you want me to take you to Physio or should Michael do it?’

I roll my eyes and beckon Michael to bring over the wheelchair. Despite the operation being a success, I have a long road ahead of me, and although my speech came back quickly, I have to learn to walk again gradually. I hated the stupid wheelchair and only allowed Michael to push it. Izzy refused after I insisted on wearing a sheet over my head the first time I had to be wheeled to the Physio department, as I was too mortified to be seen.

‘You realise you look like a bloody ghost?’ she had shouted at me last week. ‘How can I push you around like that without dying of humiliation?’

The disabled ghost had sat silently and stolidly until her sister had continued wheeling her to the lifts, burning with embarrassment and muttering, ‘Never again.’

I had since been coaxed out of the sheet but still frowned with my chin tucked into my chest as Michael laughed and wheeled me down the never-ending corridors.





Chapter Ten:


A Step Too Far


Lillian is humming softly as we drive the winding roads to Elm Tree. I look out of the window at the picture perfect snow, settling softly on the pine trees that line the country lanes, then turn to my mother.

‘What’s that song?’ I ask, thinking I might like it.

‘It’s not a song, darling, it is Chopin.’ I roll my eyes and look at her suspiciously. Is there an air of victory about her as she carefully manoeuvres the bend in the road that leads to our driveway?

Yesterday, I was gleefully packing my belongings with Izzy and Michael, as Mr Raj had granted me the all clear to go home. I had been pestering him for days to be free of the stifling hospital, and finally (with a little persuasion from Dr. Braby) he had conceded to my discharge in time for Christmas.

Michael looked at me shyly and asked if I wanted to spend Christmas at the ranch with him. I had yet to meet his father and step-mother; I hadn’t wanted to be introduced until I felt I looked more respectable and was feeling better.

I saw Lillian catch her breath and heard Izzy’s heart stop beating. I knew they would go along with anything I wanted, but I also knew they were desperate to take care of me themselves. I had even been getting along reasonably well with my mother of late.

I smiled at Michael and thanked him. ‘I would love to, but I can’t expect these two to manage Christmas without me. She …’ I gesture my thumb behind me towards Izzy, ‘couldn’t decorate a tree if her life depended on it. And she …’ I point at my worried-looking mother, ‘can hardly cook a baked bean never mind a turkey!’

They both clapped their hands delightedly and Izzy ran up behind me with a big bear hug. ‘Anna, we’ll have the best Christmas ever!’ I caught my mother’s eye and we shared a rare and loving smile.

So perhaps this was the reason she still seemed rather pleased as the familiar crunch of gravel announced our arrival onto Elm Tree Lane.

I could have cried with happiness as I saw the fairy lights twinkling in our namesake tree. The dusk had crept upon us quickly, just in time to showcase the starry lights. I saw the front of the house was also lit with Christmas decorations and guessed it was for my benefit, as never before had home looked so welcomingly festive.

‘I love it!’ I cry out, and am out of the car before it’s barely stopped moving. Izzy is hot on my heels and boasts proudly that they had spent most of the night making sure everything was perfect. I uncharacteristically love Christmas, and it’s one of the only occasions where my father and I ever conflict. He cannot abide what he describes as ‘gaudy tributes to a misplaced tradition,’ and always made us stick to wreaths of holly and a solitary pine in the corner of the entrance hall. He was usually quite generous with his gifts (or at least Leona was), but there was never any tinsel to admire or glittery crackers to pull.

I laugh delightedly as I see the twinkling reindeer by the front door, and spin round to look at my mother. ‘Father will go crazy! He’ll tear it down as soon as he lays eyes on it.’ I stand protectively by Rudolph.

‘Oh, leave him to me, Anna. I want this Christmas to be extra special. Anyway, Scrooge won’t be home until the twenty-third so we have three days to enjoy it by ourselves.’