The Last Days of Rabbit Hayes by Anna McPartlin

said.
    ‘I know you are, ya big bollocks.’
    When they parted, Rita was gone. ‘She’s like a panther, that one,’ Molly said, grabbing her husband’s hand. ‘Now, let’s put a brave face on and tonight we’ll go back online.’
    He nodded and sighed
. It’s going to be OK.

Chapter Four
Molly
    THE TABLE WAS covered with all of Rabbit’s copied files, charts, X-rays and scans. Molly made tea while Jack scoured the internet for some good news. An hour and two chicken salads later, he found a new site, which offered trials that seemed to include stage-four patients.
    ‘Let’s do it,’ Molly said. She spread all of Rabbit’s details in front of her and grabbed a notebook and pen.
    Jack clicked on the button that read ‘Match to Trials’ in line with the statement ‘I have metastatic (stage IV) disease. I have cancer that has spread from my breast to other parts of my body.’
    Jack rubbed his hands together. ‘And we’re in, Molls, we’re in. Do we have the pathology report and treatment history?’
    ‘What do you take me for?’
    He grinned at her.
    ‘OK, OK, I’ve read the conditions, click, I’m resident in Europe, click, pressing start . . . Here we go. OK, “About me”.’
    Molly looked over his shoulder at the questions. Before he’d even finished reading ‘date of birth’, she was rattling off the answers.
    ‘Twelfth of September 1972, female, “no” for genetic testing and “no” for currently on a clinical trial.’
    Jack keyed in the answers. ‘OK. “My current health”.’
    ‘Key in the last option,’ Molly said.
    He read it. ‘Ah, no, Molls, the second last one. “I require a large amount of assistance and frequent medical care.”’
    ‘Jack, we’ve got to be realistic.’
    ‘She’s not completely disabled and she’s only confined to a bed because we put her in that place.’
    ‘She can’t do anything for herself, and if she wasn’t confined to a hospice bed, it would be another bed.’
    ‘Completely disabled? We’ve seen completely disabled and it’s not our girl.’
    ‘Click “completely disabled”.’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Jack.’
    ‘They won’t take her, Molly.’
    ‘They won’t take her if we lie to them, love. Now press the fucking button.’
    With a heavy heart Jack clicked on the worst-case scenario.
    ‘Good. Now click “none of the above” for “other diseases”.’
    ‘There’s a load of them there – we should read through them.’
    ‘No need. Aside from stage-four cancer, Rabbit Hayes is as healthy as a racehorse,’ Molly said. Once again, Jack did as he was told. The next tab was more clinical. Molly scanned through it quickly and delivered answers to questions Jack found difficult to pronounce. ‘Positive, negative, positive, bone, lung, liver and “no” to lymphoedema. Next.’
    Jack nodded. ‘All right, calm down. My fingers aren’t as quick as your brain.’
    The next tab was on the topic of Rabbit’s treatments and, again, Molly didn’t even have to look at the notes before she rattled off the answers to every question. The lists were endless and laborious but she knew every tedious detail.
    ‘Are you sure she was on AC followed by Taxol? The next one down is AC followed by—’
    Molly flicked open the file, which she had tabbed with coloured stickers months previously. ‘See there.’ She pointed.
    ‘Fair enough.’
    ‘Next tab,’ she prompted.
    They moved on to racial type and schooling, although Jack had a hard time wondering why that mattered. Then they reviewed the health summary and agreed it was correct. They looked at the button marked ‘Finished/Find Trials’ for the longest minute. Molly prayed silently. ‘Just click it, Jack, before the bleedin’ thing times out and we have to start again.’
    He nodded slowly, gulped loudly, stretched his neck and clicked. It took less than two seconds to tell them that Rabbit was eligible for twenty-six trials.
    ‘Twenty-six bloomin’ trials, Molls.’ Jack jumped to his