Status: Completed

'Cause the Hardest Part of This is Leaving You.

The Ghost Of You

Lindsey shouldn't have asked me to come. I haven't been able to stop counting since we got through the door. We've been here seven minutes. Her appointment's in six minutes. She got pregnant ninty-five days ago. I try to think about random numbers, but they all seem to add up to something. Eight- the number of discrete window across the far wall. One- the equally discreet receptionist.

Lindsey flicks me a nervous smile across the top of her magazine.
There's a big square coffee table stacked with glossy magazines, it's so warm that I've had to take my jumper off. I thought it would be full of girls but Lindsey and I are the only ones here. She's brushed her hair back into a ponytail and she's wearing her baggy sweat pants again. She looks tired and pale.

" Do you know which symptoms I'll be most glad to get rid of? " She rests her magazine on her lap and counts them off on her fingers. " My breasts look like a some freaky map, all covered in blue veins. I feel heavy- even my fingers are heavy. I keep throwing up. And I've got a constant headache. "

" Anything good? "

She thinks for a moment. " I smell different. I smell quite nice. "
I lean across the coffee table and breathe her in. She smells of smoke, perfume, chewing gum. And something else.

" I saw this film once, " I tell her, " About a girl who died. When she got to heaven, her sister's still-born baby was already there, and she looked after it until they were all reunited
Lindsey pretends she hasn't heard. She turns the page as if she has read it.
" That might happen to me, Lindsey. "

" It won't. "

" Your baby's so small I could keep it in my pocket. "

"Shut up, Gee! "

" You were looking at clothes for it the other day. "

Lindsey slumps back in her chair and closes her eyes. Her mouth goes slack, as if she's been unplugged. " Please, " She says.
" Please shut up. You shouldn't have come if you're going to disapprove. "
She's right. I knew it last night when I couldn't sleep.
I write Lindsey's baby a text: HIDE!

" Who's that to? "

"No one. " I delete it and show her the blank screen.

" Was it to Frank? "

" No. "

She rolls her eyes. " You practically have sex in the garden and then you get some kind of perverted kick out of pretending it didn't happen. "

" He's not interested. "

She frowns. " Of course he's interested. His Mom came out and caught you, that's all. He'd happily fuck you otherwise. "

I hissed at her for saying that kind of word in this kind of place.
" It was four days ago, Lindsey. If he was interested, he'd have contacted me. "

She shrugs. " Maybe he's busy. "

We sit with that lie for a minute. My bone poke through my skin, I've got purple blotches under my eyes, and I'm definitely beginning to smell weird. Frank's probably still washing his mouth out.

" Love's bad for you anyway, " Lindsey says. " I'm living proof of that. " She chucks her magazine down on the table and checks her watch. " What the hell am I paying for exactly? "
I move seats to be next to her
" Maybe it's a joke. Maybe they take your money, let you sweat, and hope you get embarrassed that you just go home. "
I take her hand and hold it between mine. She looks a bit surprised, but doesn't take hers away

" When this is over, " Lindsey says, " It's just gonna be me and you again, we'll get back to your list. We'll do number six. Fame, isn't it? I saw this woman on T.V the other day. She's got terminal cancer and she's done a triathlon. You should do that. "

" She's got breast cancer. "

" So? "

" So it's different. "

" Running and cycling made her live longer than anyone thought she would. "

" So? "

" So think about it! "
And that's when the nurse comes out of a side room and walks towards us. " Lindsey Ballato? We're ready for you now. "
Lindsey hauls me up " Can my friend come? "

" I'm sorry but it's better if he waits outside. It's just a discussion today, but it's not the type of discussion that's easy to have in front of a friend. "

She looks at me, sighs and goes off with the nurse. The door shuts behind them.

I feel solid. Not small, but large and beating and alive. It's so tangible, being and not being. I'm here. Soon I won't be. Lindsey's baby is here. It's pulse ticking. Soon it won't be. And when Lindsey comes out of that room, having signed the dotted ling, she'll be different. She'll understand what I already know- that death surrounds us all.

And it tastes like metal between your teeth.