That Elusive Cure 17

“Have it. Have the cake.”

Sally had been busy. In an effort to try and pull herself out of the pits (as she called it) she’d started baking. She cut a large slice of chocolate cake and handed it to me.

“Jimmy won’t have a clue. It’ll be our secret.”

The cake was three layers with chocolate frosting and what looked like Minstrels decorating the top. How could I say to no to such an effort?

“The garden’s still a mess, but I’m sure that won’t bother you.”

I grabbed my cup of tea and shook my head. “Better for the bees, right?”

“I wish the landlord felt that way.”

Out the back of the bungalow Sal had a long garden, most of it overgrown. Flowers from a couple of enormous, scraggly bushes gave a secret garden feeling. Like somehow back here we were hidden not only from the neighbours, but the world in general and all those bad things that were always trying to get at us.

“Use this, Kath.” Sal tossed a damp tea towel at me and I wiped the patio chairs down, chasing away spiders and getting most of the bird splots off.

We settled down, neither of us speaking for a moment while we ate the cake.

“My sister found out I’ve been down again.” Sal didn’t look at me, but stared down the garden. For a moment I thought she’d forgotten I was there and that she was talking to herself. “That’s what finally made me pull myself together. You threaten to section me. She actually would.”

I listened, not sure what to say.

“Sorry about calling you a bitch. You’re my best friend. You know that, right?” Sally turned to me, a bright smile on her face. I knew it to be paint, a fake, a Mona Lisa smile. She was still down there, fighting the shadow monsters, but at least she was fighting. Last week she was letting them feed on her, and this was what I called progress.

“No worries. That’s what I’m here for. You know that.”

We supped our tea and watched the birds dip in and out of the garden chasing insects.

“You’re different somehow, but I can’t quite put my finger on how.”

My heart did a little skip.

“It’s almost as if you’re not sick. That would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?” Sally finished her tea and the conversation in the same moment. “You’ve got chocolate down your front. You’ll never get that past Jimmy without him guessing you’ve eaten something you shouldn’t.”

“Shit.” I looked down to find a blob of frosting on my white top. Sugar was the big thing Jimmy preached against. Sugar fed cancer. Break down all my favourite foods and you got glucose. For nearly two years I’d been sneaking treats behind Jimmy’s back. I was getting tired of it to be honest. Yet despite this, I still went in to attack the stain with cleaner.

Looking around the house, I could see how bad things had got with Sal. She didn’t need threats of being put away in the mad house, she needed someone to roll up their sleeves and lend a hand. After a moment of indecision I decided to start with the bathroom. Sal was out in the garden still. She’d probably not even notice I’d gone and not come back. She’d be off in her own world again, probably chatting quietly to the garden as if I was still there.

Two people had now noticed a difference in me. As I scrubbed the floor I allowed the fantasy of the cure to play out. If everything went according to the plan of the machine, with three days between treatments, I could expect to be cured in seven days. My heart skipped a beat. Seven days? Such a short amount of time, I hadn’t thought about it like that before. Seven days to be fixed, to be normal again. I allowed a silly grin to spread across my face. Cured. Remission. Words that might soon apply to me. I moved on to cleaning the toilet, whistling as I worked.