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Mark nods sagely. “Presents indeed.”

Their food is brought out—fish pie for Mel. Did she really order fish pie? She can’t remember, too distracted. Everyone does, indeed, dig in, Hattie swiping Dylan’s hand away when he reaches for her chips.

Mel sees Susan come out from the bathroom before the rest of them do. She seems to be walking slowly—or is that just her imagining things? Mel is still watching as someone bumps into her, catches the glass they’re holding, and apologizes profusely. She watches as Susan turns, as if to say something, only to stumble.

It happens in slow motion. The rest of them are still chatting—no one else seems to have noticed that Susan has come out the bathroom yet. But Susan is there. Susan is growing pale. Susan is falling.

The noise of the pub washes over Mel as her stomach turns. She’s on her feet before she fully realizes what is happening. She’s lurching away from the table, as if she can catch Susan before she falls.

“Mel, what are you—?” But there’s the scrape of many chair legs behind her as everyone sees what she has seen. Susan, collapsing, right there in the middle of the pub.

“Mum!” She’s not sure which one of them shouts it. The person who knocked into Susan drops their glass as they bend down to help, liquid going everywhere, the tumbler bouncing off the wooden floors. They get out of the way as Mel approaches.

“Susan?” Mel reaches for her hand, but it feels limp. She squeezes gently again. What should she do? Should she check for a pulse? But she can see the gentle rise and fall of Susan’s chest.

Think, Mel!

“Mum?” Finn is by her side, bending down too.

Questions from around them, the voices indistinguishable.

“What happened?”

“Oh my God, did she faint?”

Susan’s eyelids flutter, then, slowly, she opens her eyes. She blinks up at them, clearly confused. But she’s okay. She’s hit her head, but she’ll be okay. Mel tries to tell herself this as all the blood seems to rush to her own head.

“Mum?” Mark is on the other side now, all of them crowded around Susan as the owner of the pub rushes over, producing a glass of water, which Mark takes.

Kristen looks down to Mel in wide-eyed panic. “Mel!”

“I know,” Mel whispers.

“You know?” Finn snaps. “What do you mean, you know?”

Mel doesn’t know what to say. She can’t tell him, not like this.

“I’m okay.” Susan’s voice is weak and raspy, but it’s there. Mel lets out a relieved breath, swears she sees the rest of them do the same.

Mark helps Susan into a sitting position, and Mel hears Hattie murmur something to Dylan above them.

“Here, Mum,” Mark says, holding out the glass of water.

“I’ll get the first-aid kit,” announces the pub owner, wringing his hands as he leaves them.

Susan takes a slow sip, both hands cupping the water. Mel needs to say something. She needs to tell them.

But Kristen takes over. “She’s sick, Mark,” she murmurs. “She needs help. We need to get her to a hospital.”

“Nonsense,” Susan says, her voice raspy.

“Enough,” Kristen says. “You have cancer. You’ve passed out. You’re going to the bloody hospital.”

Silence ricochets out around them, the word throbbing in the space between them, ugly and unwanted.

Everyone looks at Kristen.

“What are you talking about?” Finn asks. He glances at his mum, waiting for her to contradict this statement, but she only closes her eyes.