Feb 16,1994
The rain came today. After weeks of either clear skies or falling snow it poured all day and never seemed to get light. I check on my young patient Ethan first thing, as he is being transferred to a hospital near his home in Devon this morning. His daily radiation and chemotherapy will now be reduced to three times a week and there's really no reason for him to remain in London. Surgically we've done all we can do. He's getting stronger though, even eating solid food. He has a chance, hope.....maybe.
Hope is not something I've ever trafficked in. As a physician, I coldly calculate the odds. Positives? His youth. Negatives? Pretty much everything else. What of hope though? In the past, hope meant nothing more to me than a silly idea that people cling to. But it's important, isn't it? In Greek mythology hope was the only thing left in Pandora's box, after all the evils of humanity had escaped. Sometimes hope is all we've got.
The ambulance that will take Ethan to a hospital near his home is waiting as we prepare him for the 3 hour journey. His mother will ride in the back with him and, to help with his anxiety, I administer a mild sedative. As the driver closes the door and pulls away I wonder what will happen to him and decide to fall back on the silly idea of hope. If nothing else...it's comforting.
At lunch Tom and I go to a little Italian trattoria across from the British Museum with a few of our department colleagues. He's going back to San Francisco on Saturday so we're treating ourselves to something a little nicer than the usual cafeteria fare. It'll be strange not having him here. Though he is unaware of my past before we met at Med School, he knows me as well as anyone, outside of Jimmy. With all that has happened in the last 5 weeks having Tom here has been like having a safety net around.
On the way back I decide to stop by the antiquarian bookstore. I want to tell Bamoun that Jimmy had found the necklace in a shop in Montmartre in Paris, since he was curious. Maybe that information would provide another clue to the history of the enigmatic amulet that graces my neck. Walking down Coptic Street I make a left at the alley where the shop is located but, for some reason can't find it. 'Must not be this alley,' I think to myself before trying another and another and another with no luck. It was Coptic Street that the alley ran off of wasn't it?
"Excuse me, I'm looking for a bookshop called...." I ask a passing stranger before drawing a complete blank. What was it's name? Bamoun's? No that wasn't it. The stranger stares at me puzzled while I look to the sky trying to conjure the name from the heavens.
"I'm sorry I can't remember it's name, but it sells antique books and is run by an old Egyptian man called Bamoun."
"There are quite a few antiquarian shops around here Miss," he responds. "I'm not aware of that one, sorry." he says with an apologetic smile.
"I must have the wrong block, thank you anyways," I say as I walk on. I'll have to check the receipt for the book I bought when I get home, but I can't imagine how I was able to visit the store twice but can't find it now. It's as if it disappeared. No that's ridiculous, I've just got the street wrong.
********
The 4PM surgery has a few complications, nothing really serious, but I stay late just in case. I'm still pondering the exact location of Bamoun's store when Tom sticks his head in my office door.
"I'll see you tomorrow Alex."
"Huh....oh yeah, see you tomorrow," I say shaking myself out of my daydream. "Hey Tom," I call after him, "Do you have plans for Friday?"
"None really."
"Good, because Jimmy and I want to take you to dinner for your last night in London."
"Sounds great, I'd love to " he replies smiling. He walks away but then suddenly returns, "You know sometimes Alex, this all seems like it's a dream."
********
It's after 10 when I get home and the house is dark. I check the kitchen table for a note from Julia but there is none. If Jimmy is out she always leaves a note telling me when he'll be back, but there's no sign of one tonight. The constant drizzle today has chilled me to the bone so I make myself a cup of tea and go up to the den to watch the news. He's still not home when it finishes an hour later so I decide to get ready for bed and read until he arrives.
As I enter the upstairs hallway I see a dim light coming from his room. Thinking that he must have left it on by accident I open the door to switch it off only to find Jimmy sitting on the bed with a lot of photos scattered in front of him.
"Alexia," he says startled as he tries to quickly put the photos back in a shoebox. I can clearly see though that they are of him, James and the pretty blonde I saw on the doorstep in Windsor - his wife.
"I thought you were out. I've been downstairs for the last hour," I say pretending not to notice him putting the box back on the shelf.
"How was your day," he asks giving me a hug. His voice sounds raw, as if he is trying to swallow hard and stop it from cracking with emotion.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he says hugging me tighter, "It's so good to hold you."
I decide not to press any further. He always allows me to open up to him without pushing me and I need to do the same for him. Sitting cross-legged on the bed I tell him about my day and Ethan's transfer back to his home in Devon. Then we make plans for Tom's last night in London on Friday, deciding to have dinner and then just hang out here and play pool.
"It's getting late. Why don't we sleep in your room tonight," he asks.
As we walk down the hall he puts his arm around my shoulder, gripping it tightly. Something's wrong...I felt it last night and I feel it even stronger now. Maybe it's not that I want to give him the space to tell me in his own time. Maybe I just don't want to know.
********
The clock chimes 5AM and I wake momentarily. As my eyelids flutter open I see Jimmy sitting in one of the chairs by the window looking out the window into the darkness. I slide out from under the duvet and sit in the chair next to him not saying anything.
"Alexia," he says as if he's inhaling the word. "I need to tell you something."
My heart skips as I turn to look at him. "Okay," I whisper.
"James' mother....she's very ill. We've just found out she's very sick."
Time stops as I wait for him to continue....to explain what he means.
"Cancer," he finally says in a voice so faint I can barely hear.
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LAYLA! & THE UNTOLD STORIES OF LOVE
Fanfiction"zeppelin? oh my god. that's a band, right?" layla! 2019, classic rock (an anthology of stories)
