This Could Change Everything(2)

‘I was at the hospital this morning. It’s just minor surgery.’

‘What for?’

‘I had a tattoo removed.’ Zillah sipped her coffee.

‘Seriously? . . . Oh, you’re joking.’ He looked disappointed. ‘What was it really?’

‘A synovial cyst.’

‘Is that cancer?’

She shook her head. ‘No, it’s nothing nasty. They just drained fluid from it.’

Ben said, ‘Well that’s good. But what would you have done if it had been cancer? I always think about stuff like that, don’t you? Would you write a bucket list?’

Zillah spluttered with laughter and put down her cup. ‘A what?’

‘Come on, you must have heard of them. People do them when they find out they’re going to die. One of my cousins lives in Swindon and his next-door neighbour had cancer. He wrote a bucket list of things to do and went up in a hot-air balloon, which was pretty good, but then he pegged it before he could do any of the other stuff. Like, he wanted to meet Mick Jagger, but it didn’t happen. Everyone was doing fund-raising things to send him to see the Rolling Stones in concert, but they ended up using the money to pay for the funeral instead.’

‘I have heard of bucket lists.’ Zillah nodded, because he was still looking quizzically at her.

‘If you ever find out you’re going to die, you should do one.’

‘Darling, I’m eighty-three. Either way, I don’t have many years left in me. I don’t think people do bucket lists at my age.’

Ben shook his head. ‘It must be weird, being so old.’

Zillah was enjoying herself immensely, all the more so because the owner of the greengrocer’s shop was still watching them, trying to work out if they really were related. ‘You kind of get used to it. So tell me, what would you put on your bucket list?’

‘Good question.’ He pointed at her approvingly. ‘OK, what would I have? I’d go out for the night with Miley Cyrus. D’you know who she is?’

‘Singer. Doesn’t wear many clothes. Has been known to twerk. That the one?’

‘Yeah. And I’d go swimming with dolphins. And definitely visit Disney World. And I’d get annual membership at the zoo.’

‘In Disney World?’

‘No, here.’ Ben gestured over his shoulder and she realised he was pointing in the general direction of Bristol Zoo, roughly half a mile behind them. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never been? It’s wicked. Costs loads to get in, but if you buy a year’s membership you can go in for free as often as you like. Every day, if you want.’

Now he’d really perked up. Zillah said, ‘Which are your favourite animals there?’

‘Oh no, don’t make me choose. That’s where I want to work when I leave school next year.’ His eyes were shining. ‘It’s like the best place in the world.’

When they’d finished their drinks, Zillah paid the bill and Ben said, ‘Yeah, well. Thanks.’

‘My pleasure. You could do me a favour in return, if you like.’

He rolled his eyes slightly. ‘What’s this, lecture time? No more shoplifting?’

‘You don’t need me to tell you that. Actually, I was wondering if you’d help me carry this little lot back to my car. What with my hand hurting a bit.’ She indicated the dressing on the back of it. ‘And me being so ancient.’

Zillah wasn’t stupid; she knew there was a slim chance that when you passed your belongings to a stranger, including your handbag, they might run off with them. But she wanted to take the risk, and that meant really hoping this wouldn’t happen.

It was an uphill walk past Clifton Suspension Bridge and across the broad stretch of grass separating the shops from the hospital where this morning’s minor surgery had been carried out. Clifton being the parking nightmare it always was, she’d left her car in the hospital car park.

When they finally reached it fifteen minutes later, Ben placed the various shopping bags in the boot and gave her back the large leather handbag.

‘Thank you,’ said Zillah. ‘I’m very grateful.’

‘Nice car.’ He ran a hand lightly over the Mercedes’ gleaming navy-blue paintwork.

‘I know. I can give you a lift home if you like.’

He gave a snort of laughter. ‘You don’t know where I live. Try driving down our road in this thing and you’d get hijacked. They’d have it off you and leave you lying in the gutter.’

‘Well, if you’re sure.’ Opening her purse, Zillah belatedly realised that paying the bill in the café had left her without any change. She shook her head. ‘Oh look, I was going to give you a couple of pounds, but I don’t have anything. Sorry.’

Ben’s face fell; he’d clearly been hoping for a tip. ‘It’s OK,’ he said, attempting indifference. ‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘Here, write down your address for me and I’ll post it to you instead.’ She found a pen and an old receipt in the bottom of her bag. Ben hesitated for a second, then did as she asked. Returning them to her, he said, ‘You don’t need to.’

‘If I post it, will it reach you?’

‘What, two pound coins in an envelope?’ He shrugged. ‘I suppose miracles do happen.’