They Would Never Meet Again

She was so nervous, clinging on to Rob’s arm as they walked into the consultant’s room.  Mr Lee was sat waiting for them.  Jenny thought she would be able to tell from the look on his face whether the news was good or bad but in fact his face was an unreadable mask.

“Please sit down”, he said pleasantly giving nothing away in the tone of his voice, “as you know we’ve carried out tests to see if the bone marrow transplant has been successful, we were concerned that the donor wasn’t an exact match but it was near enough for us to go ahead taking into consideration how weak Emma was becoming.  We did explain that this drastically reduced the success rate....”

Jenny couldn’t stand any more, interrupting with “just tell us, has it worked?”

Mr Lee’s gaze dropped to his desk, he looked up again and there was no mistaking the sympathy in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, tests carried out show that the cancerous cells are increasing rapidly which indicates that the transplant has not been successful”.

“So what happens now”? it was the first time Rob had spoken.

Mr Lee looked uncomfortable, “it might be best if you take her home, let her enjoy her own surroundings, when the time comes, we can arrange for a children’s hospice where you can stay too and where you know help and support will be on hand 24 hours.

“You mean that’s it”, choked Jenny, “we’ve just got to watch her die without doing anything else?”

“If there was anything, please be assured we would be doing it.  Emma’s Leukemia hasn’t responded to any of the usual treatments, the transplant was the last resort”.

“You can go on to the ward, you’ll see that although she is very weak, she is her usual cheerful self.  There will be occasions when she feels better and you must make the most of these”.

“But what are we to tell her?”

“Ah, that is something only you can decide.  I can give you some guidance leaflets specially written for parents in your circumstances.  Please don’t think you need to quote from the texts written, but the information might help with the words you need”.

It was two zombie-like parents who walked on to Emma’s ward, rictus grins fixed on their faces.

“Mum, dad”, she exclaimed, “are we going home now?”

“Come on sweetheart, lets get your things together”, said Rob.

A wheelchair transported Emma to the car, she had tried walking but her legs were very weak and she faltered after a few steps.

Back home she was made comfortable on the settee watching her favourite DVDs.

Whilst Rob took Emma’s things upstairs, Jenny went into the kitchen to make a drink.

“It’ll be alright”, Jenny looked around, “I’ll watch over her”, it was a mere whisper, the words spoken were clear but there was nobody there.

“I’m going mad”, thought Jenny, not really surprised considering the stress she was under.

She carried the tea tray into the lounge with orange for Emma who was beaming all over her face.

“Why the big grin?” asked Rob who had just walked into the room, doing his best to sound as normal as possible.

“Nanna Grace was here”.

Rob and Jenny stared at each other and then at Emma.

“Oh darling”, said Jenny, “you know nanna Grace went to heaven and whilst we believe she’s happy there, you know we can’t see her anymore”.

“Yes mum, she is happy and she says I’ll be happy too, she says I won’t have to take any more of those horrible tablets that make me feel sick and no more hospital visits, isn’t that great?”

Jenny dashed out of the room choking back a sob.  Her mother had passed away just over a year ago after a very short illness.  Her sudden death had been a terrible shock and came at a time when Emma had first started to show signs of her illness so Jenny felt she hadn’t grieved for her mother as she should have done.

She shivered suddenly as a cool breath of air touched her cheek, again came the whisper, “she won’t be alone, I can’t take away the pain of your loss but I can be with my grand daughter when she leaves you”.

Jenny looked towards the kitchen window where there was a very faint shimmering light, the light seemed to become more solid before finally fading.

Jenny took a deep breath and went back into the lounge, Emma had dropped off to sleep. Jenny cosied up to her, held her hand and stroked her head where tufts of hair were still showing, the rest of the flaxen curls having fallen out.

The next few week seemed to pass in a blur, Emma’s good days were becoming fewer and fewer and she was getting weaker and weaker.

Jenny persuaded Rob that they could cope at home, she didn’t want Emma to go into the children’s hospice.  Rob thought it might help if they did but Rob didn’t know of the help and support Jenny was getting from his late mother-in-law.

It was early one Saturday evening when Emma quietly and peacefully closed her eyes for the last time.

“What was she saying when she closed her eyes” asked Rob, “I’m sure she said something”.

Jenny held Rob’s hand tight and swallowing back her tears, “I’m coming nanna Grace is what she said”.

Hundreds of people, relatives, school friends, neighbours and even people who only knew the family slightly attended the funeral a week later.

Rob held Jenny close to him as they stood by the small grave.  Jenny’s eyes drifted to the foot of the grave, there was the shadowy figure which had been by her side for the last few weeks.  Through her tears Jenny managed the briefest of smiles in acknowledgement and in that moment she knew that they would never meet again.

By Christine Williamson.

Final sentence prompt: They would never meet again.