And who are you to decide? asked the ex-wife, surprised to see me by his hospital bed.
Excuse me, could you tell me how to find ward two-seventeen? inquired an elderly woman of the nurse standing by the station.
Down the corridor, then right, muttered the nurse without looking up from her magazine.
Margaret tightened her grip on the bag of food and made her way slowly in the direction given. Hospital corridors always filled her with melancholythe scent of antiseptic, the squeak of trolleys, the muffled voices behind closed doors. She had loathed hospitals ever since her mother passed away in one.
Reaching the door, she knocked and entered. Four men lay in the ward, but her eyes found him at once. Edward lay by the window, pale, his eyes closed. A vase of wilting chrysanthemums stood on the bedside table.
Ed? she called softly, stepping closer.
His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at her in surprise.
Maggie? How did you know I was here?
Helen told me. Ran into her near the shops and asked why I hadnt seen you about. She mentioned the hospital.
Margaret set the bag on the table and sat in the chair beside the bed. Edward looked dreadfulhis cheeks hollow, his eyes dull. A far cry from the lively man she remembered.
What happened?
Oh, just my heart playing up, he said with a weak wave. Doctors say it was a mild heart attack. Small, but still.
Good Lord, Ed. She clasped her hands together. I had no idea.
How would you? We havent exactly kept in touch.
No accusation lingered in his voice, only a quiet resignation. Indeed, theyd scarcely seen each other since he married Lucy. The occasional nod at the grocers or a passing greeting at the bus stopnothing more.
Brought you a few things, she said, pulling jars from the bag. Pickled cucumbers, tomatoes, cherry compote. I remember you liked them.
Thank you, Maggie, he said, smiling for the first time since shed arrived. Thats kind of you.
What do the doctors say? When will they discharge you?
Next week, if all goes well. But Ill need to stick to a diet, take my medicine. Live sensibly, I suppose.
She nodded. She wanted to ask about Lucy but hesitated. It was odd, his wife not being here. Perhaps she was working or caught up at home.
And Lucy? Has she been in?
Edward turned his face toward the window.
Lucy isnt Lucy to me anymore. We divorced.
What? She nearly leaped from the chair. When?
Papers went through three months ago. Been living apart for half a year.
Ed, what on earth happened?
He was silent for a long moment, gazing out at nothing.
She grew tired of me, I suppose. Said the feelings were gone. Wanted a fresh start. The usual story.
Margaret didnt know what to say. Edward and Lucy had been married eight years. It had seemed a good matchLucy at the salon, Edward at the factory, comfortable if not wealthy. Theyd bought a flat, even a car.
And the heart attackwas it because of this?
Who knows? The doctors said stress mightve played a part. But my hearts been dodgy for a while. Just never paid it any mind.
Ed, where are you living now? Who kept the flat?
She did. I moved back in with Mum. Thank goodness she took me inhad nowhere else to go.
Margaret remembered Edwards mother, Elizabeth. A stern but fair woman, shed always been kind to her when she and Edward were together. Pity the flat was so smallhardly room for two grown adults.
How did it come to this, Ed? I remember how happy you both looked at the wedding.
So do I, he sighed. But people change, Maggie. Thought love lasted forever. Turns out it doesnt always.
He didnt finish, but she understood. Shed been through it herself when her husband, Geoffrey, left her for another woman. That was years ago, back when their daughter, Claire, was still little. Now Claire was married herself, living in another town.
Ed, is there any chance you two might work things out?
No, Maggie. Shes with someone else now. Met a bloke, fell in love. Says she finally knows what real love feels like.
The words cut deep. She pictured Edward learning of the affair, enduring the divorce, alone in that unfamiliar flat.
Im sorry for prying. Its just I never expected this.
Its all right. Good to talk, actually. Cant spill my guts to Mumshe worries enough as it is.
Margaret pulled a thermos from her handbag.
Brought tea. Still hot, with honey and lemon. Good for the heart.
You always did think of everything, he said, accepting the cup gratefully. I remember how you used to look after me.
*Used to.* That was twenty years ago, when they were together. Shed been twenty-one, he twenty-three. Young, in love, making plans. Theyd even set a wedding date for autumn.
But then Geoffrey had stormed into her lifehandsome, ambitious, full of promises. Shed lost her head and left Edward for him.
What a fool shed been. Geoffrey *had* been charming, but fickle. Married her, had Claire, then five years later, he was goneoff with another woman, leaving her with a child and a mortgage.
Ed, I want to apologise, she said suddenly.
For what?
For what happened back then. It was rotten of me.
He set the cup aside and studied her.
Maggie, that was a lifetime ago. Why dredge it up now?
Because Ive always wanted to say it. Seeing you here, unwell, alone I realised weve both made mistakes.
Havent we all?
Not everyone walks away from good people for empty promises.
Edward reached out and covered her hand with his.
Maggie, Ive never held it against you. It hurt, yes. But if someone can walk away, maybe it wasnt real love to begin with. We just werent meant to be.
Neither were Geoffrey and I, she said with a sad smile. So I lost you both.
But youve got Claire. Shes turned out well, hasnt she?
How do you know that?
Helen mentioned it. Said shes married, doing well. Youve every reason to be proud.
She nodded. Claire *was* her pridestudied hard, married well, worked as a doctor now.
You and Lucy never had children?
No. She didnt want them. Said it wasnt the right time, then that we couldnt afford it, then that work got in the way. Now I see the truthshe never wanted *my* children.
A nurse entered with medication. Margaret stepped aside.
How are we feeling? the nurse asked Edward.
Alright, thanks.
Lets check your pressure and give you this injection. And you, she turned to Margaret, family?
Margaret hesitated. Family? Ex-fiancée? Just an old friend?
Yes, family, Edward answered for her.
The nurse nodded and went about her duties. Margaret supposed he couldve told the truth but spared them both the explanation.
Once alone again, she asked, Ed, what will you do after they discharge you?
Dunno. Cant work yettheyll sign me off. Sit at home, take my pills. Mum says shell set me to work in her garden. Shes got an allotment.
Gardenings good. Fresh air, gentle exercise.
Aye. And you? Still on your own?
Yes. Used to it now. Claire calls often, visits when she can. Promises grandchildren. She smiled.
Grandkids must be lovely. Id have liked that.
The longing in his voice tugged at her heart. A man of fifty-three, alone, unwell, no family. Life could be cruel.
Ed, shall I give you my number? I could ring, see how youre getting on.
Aye. Give us yours too, in case.
They exchanged numbershers into his mobile, his into her old brick of a phone.
Need any help when youre out? Cooking, cleaning?
Cheers, Maggie, but Mumll manage. Wouldnt want to trouble you.
No trouble. Were friends, arent we?
Friends, he repeated, smiling. Sounds nice.
The doctor enteredan older man in a white coat.
How are we today, Edward? Any complaints?
No, Doctor. Feeling a bit better.
After checking his chart, listening to his heart, and
