Part One Hundred And Fifteen
They were quiet as they drove away from the hospital, neither of them quite knowing what to say. "What do you want to do?" Karen asked as they waited at the traffic lights. It was just after one o'clock but neither of them felt remotely like having lunch. "I suppose I ought to go and tell Jo," George said miserably. "I've probably kept it quiet enough already, haven't I." "I'm not going to disagree with you," Karen said quietly. "What about John?" "No," George said almost fearfully. "He can't know, not yet anyway." "George…" Karen tried to protest. "Karen, if I have any contact with John whatsoever, before I have this done, I know I won't go through with it." "All right," Karen acquiesced, though the urge rose up in her to inform John herself. But no, that did have to be George's decision, even though Karen privately thought that she was making the wrong one. "Do you want me to drop you off at Jo's office?" She said as they neared that part of the city. "Yes please," George replied, not for the first time wondering how on earth she was about to break this piece of news to anyone, never mind the woman she knew she loved. As George's appointment hadn't been until eleven that morning, she had driven home for a fresh set of clothes, whilst Karen had dropped into the prison, to inform her secretary that she was unexpectedly going to be out for the morning, and possibly the afternoon. Her secretary had raised an eyebrow but failed to comment. It wasn't Karen's usual habit to disappear unexpectedly and without any real explanation, but as she had always been a pleasant boss to work for, she made no complaint.
When Karen had driven away, George stood outside for a moment in the freezing February wind, trying to gather her scattered thoughts into some sense of order. She had to persuade Jo to come home with her, that was for certain, because neither Jo's reaction nor what would probably be their own heated discussion, should ever take place in anything resembling a professional environment. As she walked up the stairs towards Jo's office, she was forcefully reminded of the time she had come here to tell Jo about the Chlamydia. She had been embarrassed, angry and mortally humiliated on that occasion, but this time, all she felt was numbness, a feeling that her very existence was hanging in limbo, never mind the next few minutes.
When Jo received the tap on her door, she bade whomever it was to enter. On looking up and seeing George, she instantly knew that something was wrong. "This is an unexpected pleasure," She said, getting up from her cluttered desk and walking over to where George was standing with her back to the closed door. "No, darling," George said regretfully. "It's not." Suddenly knowing what she needed, she moved into Jo's outstretched arms and simply held onto her, taking the comfort that emanated from Jo like warmth. Jo just held her, seeing that George obviously needed a little time to regroup, to muster up the courage to tell her something terrible. "What's happened?" Jo eventually asked, all sorts of possibilities running through her head. "Can you leave all this, and take the rest of the day off?" George asked into her shoulder. "I know it's an awful imposition, but we shouldn't do this here." "Erm, yes, I suppose so," Jo said whilst mentally running through the appointments she had that afternoon. "Just let me rearrange a few people, and then I'm all yours." "I'm sorry," George said, moving slightly back from her. "But it is important." "And you wouldn't be here, asking me to do this in the middle of the working day, if it wasn't," Jo said soberly. "So sit down, have a cup of tea and a cigarette, and give me ten minutes to do some sweet talking to a couple of clients." "I wouldn't mind something stronger if you've got it," George said as she sat down and dug out her cigarettes. "And I think we both know that a bottle of Scotch anywhere in my office, would be far too much of a temptation," Jo said without any hint of a smile.
When they left a little while later, and Jo saw that George's car wasn't in the car park, she asked, "How did you get here?" "Karen dropped me off," George told her as they moved towards Jo's car. Jo looked at her warily. "You're not about to tell me that you're back with her, are you?" "No," George said perfectly seriously. "It's nothing like that, I promise." Trying to bury her growing curiosity and worry for the moment, Jo drove them to George's house, neither of them speaking. When they arrived in George's driveway, George led the way into the house, immediately making her way towards the lounge and the bottle of Martini that stood on the sideboard. It was perhaps this action more than any other, George drinking in the middle of the day, which worried Jo most. Something must be very wrong for her to do that. When George lifted the whisky bottle in Jo's direction, Jo nodded absent-mindedly, and joined George as she sat down on the sofa. The silence between them was tense, charged with what George knew was coming, and with what Jo didn't. After taking a swig of her drink and putting it down on the coffee table, George reached for Jo's hand, softly running her thumb over the knuckles, and trying to formulate the news she had to impart.
"There's no easy way of telling you this," She began eventually, Jo giving her all the time she needed. "And if I didn't have to, then believe me I wouldn't, but I'm afraid that it's pretty much unavoidable." "George, stop rambling," Jo told her gently. "And just tell me." "I've got breast cancer," George said, still keeping hold of Jo's hand, as though this was the only thing that was keeping her afloat in a drowning tide of fear and uncertainty. Jo just stared at her, all the blood draining from her face, making her feel utterly cold inside. No, this couldn't possibly be happening, not to George, not to the vibrant, loving, argumentative woman she knew so well. George could see the reaction in Jo's eyes, the sheer terror shining out of them as the light of passion so often did.
Eventually summoning up the energy to do something sensible, Jo got up from the sofa, picked up her as yet untouched whisky glass and walked into the kitchen, tipping its contents down the sink. When she returned and put the empty glass back down on the coffee table, George thought that she looked slightly more calm and collected, a little more like the Jo she was used to seeing. When she sat down again, she asked, "How long have you had it?" As though she'd known that George had done something completely irrational. "I first found it at Christmas," George said quietly, ready for the tirade that would no doubt be very similar to Karen's of the night before. "Oh, George!" Jo exclaimed, sounding hurt, angry and a little bewildered. "Yes, yes, I know," George interrupted before Jo could go any further. "Karen said everything that I suspect you're about to say to me last night, so I really don't need to hear it all again." "All right," Jo said, calming down a little. "But what made you finally do something about it?" "That's quite a long story," George said evasively, remembering that she had to keep any talk of Connie Beauchamp out of it. "I've got all day, George," Jo said succinctly. "So start talking." As George filled in the details of Kay's finding out about her lump, and making her the appointment with Ric Griffin, Jo just listened. "So," She said when George had finished. "You went to see Ric Griffin today?" "Yes," George confirmed. "I asked Karen to go with me, because that wasn't something I wanted to do on my own, and I wanted to know precisely what I was dealing with before I told you."
"So," Jo asked a little shakily. "What happens now?" "I go into hospital on Monday, and they remove the tumour on Tuesday, and judging by what I saw on the X-ray this morning, there isn't going to be much of my breast left when they've finished." "I'm sorry," Jo said, the tears finally rising to her eyes as she reached for George, their arms going round each other to try and offer comfort that neither of them knew how to give. "I know," George replied, brief tears rising to her own eyes. "Which one?" Jo asked, her face nestled in George's soft hair. Taking Jo's hand in hers, George led it to her left breast. As Jo encountered the soft mound of flesh she knew so well, she could feel the hard, foreign lump, even through George's blouse and bra. "But that's huge," She said in horror. "It's grown," George said dully. "It was tiny when I first found it on Boxing Day." "Boxing Day?" Jo queried, clearly thinking. "But that was the day after that incredible night we had, when…" "…When you tied me up," George said with a smile of remembrance. "Yes, I know. I woke up in the early morning, and you two were still asleep. I remember looking out of the window, and thinking just how beautiful everything was, both outside and inside. I found the lump when I was in the shower." "And you didn't tell either of us," Jo said sadly. "I didn't know how to tell either of you," George tried to explain. "And the longer I put it off, the harder it became. Then we were all involved with Barbara's trial, which really didn't feel like the right time to bring up something like that." "I can't believe that neither John nor I ever found it," Jo said sounding slightly mystified. "That would be because I kept both of you away from that breast, and neither of you ever noticed." "And that might also explain why making love hasn't really been your chosen pastime of late," Jo said, putting the pieces together. "Partly," George admitted sheepishly. "I was terrified of either of you finding it, and I simply haven't often felt like it." "On Tuesday night when I saw John, before he went to the judges' seminar, he said he was worried about you. He said that there was something you weren't telling him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. This was it, wasn't it." "Yes, though at first he thought I was pregnant. He doesn't know about this yet, Jo, and he mustn't, not until there's no going back. I am utterly terrified of having my breast removed, but if I see or speak to John before I do, it'll make it a hell of a lot harder to contemplate."