She opened her eyes to see him staring at her, a look of confusion and worry on his face. "Diane?" he asked, concernedly putting an arm around her.
She moved away. "I'm fine," she replied automatically. "I just felt a bit… queasy. Zubin told me to get something to eat," she added, by way of explanation for not being in theatre. "But I'm fine," she repeated, trying to convince herself if not Ric. "I really am."
"You don't look it," he told her.
She grimaced at him. "Thank you, Ric." Inside, she was worried. If people could see that she looked unwell… maybe she really was ill. No, she was never ill. It was impossible; she couldn't be ill. She was a doctor, she never got ill… She tried to push it to the back of her mind, and began to walk away. "I'm going to get something to eat, I'll see you…"
He began to follow her. "Wait a moment, Diane. I've got twenty minutes free, would you mind if I came with you? I'd like to talk to you – if you don't mind, that is," he added, noticing how tense she looked.
"Why would I mind?" she asked, feigning ignorance. "You're my best friend." But she did mind. She had a feeling that he would never take "I'm fine" as a final answer – he understood her too well. And he would want to know the truth.
"I just meant, if you wanted to be alone… or something…"
Now would have been the ideal opportunity to tell him that she didn't want him to go with her. She could have just said, "Yeah, I've got a lot on my mind," and she was debating doing just that, when she heard herself tell him, "No, I don't mind." It would be easier to avoid his questions than to brush her best friend off.
He smiled; if he was surprised by her easy acceptance, he didn't show it, and she was grateful for that. He looked curiously at her as he passed her. "You're wearing a lot of make-up today, aren't you?"
She looked at him incredulously. "And since when do you care about my make-up?" That was the best way to deal with it. Change the subject.
He shrugged. "You just seem to be wearing a lot today…" He put an arm around her as they were walking. She stiffened but didn't move away. "Do you have a date or something?"
She laughed, partly out of relief that that was what he thought. "No… no, I'm off dating for now."
"Oh? And why is that?" he queried, pushing open the door to the canteen.
"No reason." She let him buy her a meal and allowed herself to be pushed towards a table, where he sat her down.
"Eat." He sat down opposite her and smiled. "I'm exhausted," he told her, leaning back in his chair. "This past week has been hell without you here."
"Glad to know I'm missed." She broke off a piece of bread and nibbled at it. She didn't have an appetite, and the mere thought of food made her feel sick, but she didn't dare tell him that, so she tried to look as though she was eating, hoping that he would be fooled and accept that she had eaten. "Y'know, I wasn't just taking a week off for pleasure, Ric, I was actually ill."
"What was the matter?" he asked, truly concerned, reaching out to touch her arm gently.
She shook her head. "I told you yesterday…" she said, hoping he would drop it, but knowing inside that he wouldn't.
"No, yesterday you fobbed me off with excuses. Diane, talk to me, tell me what the matter is." He looked genuinely concerned, and at any other time, she would have been touched by his concern, and willing to drown in the sympathy in his deep brown eyes. But not today. Today she needed to concentrate on not breaking down.
"Nothing. Really, Ric, it's nothing." She shook her head, looking down at her plate as she broke off another piece of bread.
"The last time you told me that, you were pregnant," he told her. "Diane, you're hiding something. What is it?" He looked at her, placing his hand over hers. "You're not… you're not pregnant again, are you?"
She found herself laughing at the absurdity of that. "No, God no, Ric!" She bit her lip to stop herself laughing, and found herself almost ready to cry at the memory of last year. "Thank God." She still regretted that – every part of it, she regretted. She regretted going out with Steve, she regretted dumping him so quickly, she regretted being so hasty about her pregnancy, she regretted not asking Ric to be there during her termination… she regretted thinking she was strong enough, when she'd known all along that she wasn't.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have reminded you…"
"No, no, it's okay…" She sighed, blinking furiously as she looked down at her plate. "Ric, it's complicated, okay?"
"Diane, I care about you a lot…" He sighed. "Let me in, let me help you."
"Ric…" She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him. Please let me be. Please help me without me having to tell you what the matter is. Please hold me in your arms and make it all better for me. Please hold me forever, sing me lullabies at night so that I fall asleep without the nightmares, be there every moment with me to give me the strength to cope…
He smiled at her, his eyes meeting hers and telling her that he cared – more than he normally let on. "I'm not going to push you, Diane."
She nodded gratefully. "Thank you. Because it is nothing, Ric, it's just me over-reacting."
"Diane Lloyd, I have known you for years, and never once in all that time have I known you to over-react. Underestimate yourself, maybe. But never over-react." His grip on her hand tightened, and he stroked her fingers with his thumb gently.
"I don't… I'm over-reacting this time, there's a first time for everything, Ric. I'm just being silly, I'm worrying myself ill about something that's probably not even real, not something to worry about…" Her words were spilling out: she was trying to convince herself more than him, but she wasn't convincing either of them.
The concern on his face had never been more pronounced. "Diane, you're scaring me, sweetheart. What is it?"
She briefly noted his use of the word 'sweetheart', even though he hadn't seemed to, and allowed herself a brief smile. "Ric! It's nothing. Really," she insisted, quietly, looking around the canteen. She forced her lips to curve into a smile, though she felt more like crying.
He moved his chair around to her side of the table, never letting go of her hand. "Diane…"
She needed no encouragement to move closer to him, and he put a protective arm around her. "It's nothing," she insisted feebly, knowing that she wasn't fooling him.
"Diane, please… let me in, let me be a part of this…"
She bit her lip. "Ric, I… I think I…" She trailed off. "I can't say it." She buried her head in his shoulder, not wanting to look at him.
"Diane, whatever it is, I'm not going to walk away, I'm not going to let you deal with this on your own."
"I've got to go," she blurted out, standing up hurriedly and beginning to rush out. He caught onto her arm. "Please Ric, I can't…"
"You can't go through this on your own, it's obviously upsetting you."
She nodded. She wanted to tell him, she ached for him to know, to be able to help her through it, but she just couldn't quite form the words to tell him, because saying it – that would make it true. Quickly, before her courage failed her, she spoke. "I think I've got cancer, Ric. I found a lump in my breast. I think I've got cancer."