**Diary Entry 15th March**
The words still ring in my ears. *”And who do you think you are to decide?”* His ex-wifes sharp tone cut through the sterile hospital air as she spotted me by his bedside.
*”Excuse me, could you tell me how to find Ward 217?”* Id asked an older nurse at the station earlier, clutching a bag of homemade food.
*”Down the corridor, then right,”* she muttered without looking up from her magazine.
I tightened my grip on the bag and shuffled down the corridor. Hospitals always filled me with dreadthe scent of antiseptic, the squeak of trolleys, muffled voices behind closed doors. Id hated them since my mother passed away in one.
When I reached his room, I knocked softly and stepped inside. Four men occupied the ward, but my eyes went straight to himEdward, pale and still, by the window. A vase of wilting daisies sat on his bedside table.
*”Eddie?”* I whispered.
His eyes fluttered open. *”Margaret? How did you know I was here?”*
*”Susan from the bakery told me. I bumped into her at Tesco and asked why I hadnt seen you around. She mentioned the hospital.”*
I set the bag down and sat beside him. He looked awfulhollow cheeks, dull eyes. Nothing like the lively man I once knew.
*”What happened?”*
*”Just my heart,”* he said with a weak wave. *”Minor heart attack, they reckon.”*
*”Good Lord, Eddie! I had no idea.”*
*”Why would you? We havent exactly kept in touch.”*
There was no bitterness, just resignation. After he married Linda, wed only exchanged polite greetings at the shops or bus stop.
I unpacked the foodpickled gherkins, stewed tomatoes, blackberry jam. *”Thought you might fancy something homemade.”*
*”Thanks, Maggie,”* he said, smiling for the first time. *”Thats kind of you.”*
*”Whats the prognosis?”*
*”Home next week if alls well. But its pills and a strict diet from now on.”*
I hesitated before asking, *”Hows Linda? Not visiting?”*
He turned to the window. *”Linda isnt my Linda anymore. We divorced three months back.”*
*”What?”* I nearly stood. *”When?”*
*”Been apart six months. Shes moved onsaid she wanted a fresh start.”*
I didnt know what to say. Theyd been married eight years. Owned a terraced house in Croydon, a used Vauxhall. Seemed happy enough.
*”Was this why?”* I gestured to his chest.
*”Stress, the doctors say. Though my tickers been dodgy for years.”*
*”Where are you living now?”*
*”With Mum. Thank God she took me in. The house went to Linda.”*
I remembered his mother, Eleanora stern but fair woman whod always liked me. A one-bed flat in Lewisham wasnt ideal for two, though.
*”Eddie, what went wrong? You two seemed so happy at the wedding.”*
*”People change, Maggie. Thought love lasted forever. Turns out it doesnt.”*
I knew that pain. My ex, Geoffrey, had left me for his secretary when our daughter, Emily, was just five. Now Emilys a GP in Manchester, happily married.
*”Maybe you two could still”*
*”No. Shes with someone else. Says shes finally found real love.”*
The words hung between us. I pictured him alone in some rented room, nursing a broken heart.
*”Im sorry for prying. Its just such a shock.”*
*”Salright. Nice to talk, actually.”*
I pulled out a thermos. *”Teahoney and lemon. Good for the heart.”*
*”Always looking out for me,”* he said, taking the cup. *”Just like old times.”*
Old times. Twenty years ago, when we were young and in love. Wed planned an autumn wedding. Then Geoffrey swept incharming, ambitious, full of promises. Id been a fool. He left me with a mortgage and a child.
*”Eddie, I need to apologise,”* I blurted out.
*”What for?”*
*”For what I did. It was cruel.”*
He set the cup down. *”Maggie, thats ancient history.”*
*”Not to me. Seeing you here, alone I realise how many wrong turns Ive taken.”*
*”Havent we all?”*
*”Not everyone throws away something good for empty promises.”*
He covered my hand with his. *”I forgave you years ago. If someone can walk away, maybe it wasnt meant to be.”*
*”And Geoffrey wasnt either,”* I said bitterly. *”Lost you both.”*
*”But youve got Emily. Susan says shes doing brilliantly.”*
*”Youve kept tabs?”*
*”Bits and bobs. Proud of her, you should be.”*
Emily *was* my pridea doctor, married to a decent bloke.
*”You and Linda never?”*
*”No. She kept putting it offwork, money, timing. Now I know why.”*
A nurse entered with medication. *”How are we feeling?”*
*”Not bad, thanks.”*
*”Lets check your blood pressure. And youfamily?”* She eyed me.
I faltered. Family? Ex-fiancée?
*”Yes, family,”* Eddie answered for me.
After the nurse left, I asked, *”Whatll you do after discharge?”*
*”Rest, mostly. Mums got an allotmentkeep me busy, she says.”*
*”Fresh airll do you good.”*
*”And you? Still on your own?”*
*”Used to it now. Emily visits when she can.”*
*”Grandkids soon, eh?”* His voice ached with longing. A man of fifty-three, alone, no family. Lifes cruelty stung.
*”Give me your number?”* I said. *”Ill check in.”*
We exchanged contactsmy old Nokia, his smartphone.
*”Need help after discharge? Cooking, cleaning?”*
*”Mumll manage. Dont want to impose.”*
*”Nonsense. Were friends.”*
*”Friends,”* he repeated, smiling. *”Nice, that.”*
The doctor arrivedwhite-haired, brisk. *”Improving, Edward. Monday, if alls well. But no stress, mind.”*
*”Understood.”*
*”Good youve family visiting,”* the doctor added. *”Matters more than medicine, sometimes.”*
After he left, Eddie glanced at the clock. *”Youd best go. Buses thin out this late.”*
*”Ill come tomorrow. Bring some soup.”*
*”Please do.”*
I kissed his cheekfriendly, yet my pulse fluttered.
At the door, I nearly collided with *her*Linda, now a bleached blonde in a camel coat and stilettos.
*”Eddie, darling,”* she purred, ignoring me. *”How are you?”*
*”Fine,”* he said flatly.
She placed roses and grapes on the table. *”Thought you might like these.”*
Then she noticed me. *”And you are?”*
*”Margaret. We go way back,”* Eddie said.
*”Ah! The one who dumped you?”* Her tone dripped disdain.
*”Linda”* Eddie warned.
*”Why *are* you here?”* she demanded. *”Come to comfort your ex now hes ill?”*
I kept my voice steady. *”I heard he was unwell. Thats all.”*
*”How touching. Where were you when he was healthy?”*
*”Thats enough,”* Eddie snapped, wincing.
The nurse returned, scowling. *”Blood pressures up. Ladies, *please*.”*
Linda grabbed her handbag. *”Ill go. Call if you need anything.”*
She left in a cloud of Chanel. I lingered. *”Rest, Eddie. Ill come tomorrow.”*
*”Sorry about that,”* he murmured.
*”Not your fault.”*
Another kiss on his cheek, then I left.
Linda cornered me outside. *”We need to talk.”*
*”About what?”*
*”Edward. Im not the villain you think.”*
*”Arent you?”*
She sighed. *”I was unhappy. Met someone
