The Last Days of Rabbit Hayes by Anna McPartlin Page A

feet.
    ‘Twenty-six trials, Jack.’ She stood up and hugged him.
    ‘Twenty-six trials,’ he repeated, and waltzed her around the kitchen.
    ‘You see? All’s not lost,’ she said. ‘It’s going to be expensive but we’ll sell the house.’
    ‘We’ll sell the lot. Hell, I’d even sell myself if I thought it would make the difference.’
    ‘Twenty-six trials,’ she whispered in his ear.
    ‘It’s going to be OK.’ He kissed her cheek.
    ‘Right, back to business.’ She pulled away. ‘You put on the kettle and I’ll start studying the difference between hormone, targeted and bisphosphonate therapies. When we go to Dunne tomorrow I want to be armed.’
    ‘Good girl. I’ll throw in a few chocolate Wagon Wheels so you can keep up your strength,’ Jack said, but she was gone, lost in research. He settled himself in an armchair and watched the tea go cold, the biscuits remain on the plate and his wife studying biology.
Davey
    Davey was staring out of Rabbit’s window, watching night fall and talking to Francie.
    ‘I’ll tell her,’ he said, clicking off his phone. He turned to his sister, who was awake and propped up in bed. ‘Francie can’t make it. Some emergency needs attending to. He’ll come tomorrow.’ He sat beside her, picked up the TV remote and began whizzing through the channels, like a man possessed.
    ‘It’s nice of him to think about coming,’ Rabbit said.
    ‘Why wouldn’t he?’ Davey said, and settled on a channel.
    ‘Do you think I’ll ever leave here?’ she asked.
    He muted the sound. ‘Absolutely.’ He meant it. If anyone could, it was Rabbit.
    ‘Have you ever heard of anyone leaving a place like this?’
    ‘I haven’t asked.’
No.
    ‘I feel better now than I did this morning.’
    ‘Good.’
    ‘I’ve heard of one case,’ she said.
    ‘You have?’
    ‘There was a sixteen-year-old girl in Munich who was dying of end-stage leukaemia and one day, out of the blue, she got out of her bed and insisted on going for a walk. They couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t walked in weeks. But she did walk, Davey, she walked right out of the hospice and never went back. She’s a teacher now in Hamburg. She has a blog.’
    ‘How?’
    ‘Just happened. No new drugs, no prayers, no voodoo or alternative therapies. She said it was mind over matter. She decided she was going to live so she lived.’
    ‘Do you believe that’s possible?’ Davey asked.
    ‘I’d like to. I want to. I wish.’ A stray tear escaped her right eye and rolled towards her ear.
    Davey pulled a tissue from the box on her locker and dabbed it away. ‘Me too.’
So do it. Get better and live, live, live, Rabbit
. ‘But no pressure.’ He grinned and she smiled at him, took his hand and gently squeezed it.
    ‘I missed you,’ she said.
    Marjorie bustled through the door, laden with shopping. She raised her arms high, allowing the bags to swing. Rabbit gave her a big, warm, welcoming smile. ‘You’re back, Marj.’
    ‘And of course you missed me because life is very dull without me.’ She dropped the bags and put her arms round her friend. ‘I leave you for two bleedin’ weeks and you end up here.’ She was making a valiant effort to be upbeat and Davey silently appreciated it.
    ‘I see you were shopping,’ Rabbit said.
    ‘Rome is underestimated as a shopping destination.’ She picked up some bags and placed them carefully on the bed, well away from Rabbit’s legs.
    ‘You could find something to buy in an Afghan desert,’ Rabbit said.
    Marjorie grinned. ‘Probably me own life, knowing those mental cases.’
    ‘What would that be worth? About a fiver?’ Rabbit said.
    ‘LOL, baldy.’
    Rabbit giggled.
    Marjorie turned to Davey, who was happy watching Rabbit and her best friend banter. ‘Am I going to get a hug or wha’?’ she asked.
    He stood up and obliged her. ‘It’s good to see you, Marjorie.’
    They pulled apart and she brushed his jacket down. ‘Still spending most of your time on a