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“Weird,” I mutter to myself.
My parents will probably appreciate a hot meal when they get home. I pull out the ingredients for a curry and get to work heating the oil and chopping vegetables. Dinner is almost done when I hear the locks disengage and my parents come through the door.
“Hey Mum, Dad, I’ve made a curry,” I call out as I pull three plates down and begin to dish out the food. No one has answered me yet. I glance over at the doorway. The spoon in my hand clatters to the floor when I see their pallid, drawn faces.
“Mum! Dad! What’s going on? Are you okay?” I run over and stop in front of my mum.
She says nothing, her vibrant blue eyes are glazed over, seeing something far away. Something that isn’t here in this room with us. Her blonde hair is windblown and tousled, her pale face haggard. I can see the red tinge around her eyes, a sign that’s she’s recently been crying. Mum has cried a lot since we had to move, but this… this is different, and I’m scared to death.
“Mum!” I yell, reaching out to touch her arm.
She startles, as if surprised to find herself here in our flat, with me in front of her. Dad shuffles past me to the table and drops heavily into a chair.
“Ellie,” she whispers, sagging against the front door. She looks older, much older. She’s not the vivacious, beautiful woman she was before our lives went to crap.
“Here,” I say, taking her coat and handbag, tossing them over the sofa. “Come sit.” Guiding her to the small table, I push her down gently into a chair, hiding my shaking hands behind my back.
Unsure what to do, I pick the spoon up off of the floor and bring three glasses of water over to the table. Then I get the plates, putting one in front of my mum, one in front of my dad, and sit down across from them with the last one.
“Where have you both been?” I ask cautiously, afraid of upsetting them further but freaking out from not knowing what’s going on.
“We…we…” she stammers, “we were at the clinic,” she says.
“What do you mean? Are you ill? Is that why you’re so pale? Do I need to get you some medicine?”
I turn to Dad and he’s just sitting there, his expression as unseeing and vacant as Mum’s was. He’s completely still. He doesn’t even blink. It’s like something died inside him.
My mum’s eyes are filled with tears when she finally meets my gaze. The sadness in that look, the total despair, the pity for me… I see it all as plain as day.
“I’m not well, Ellie,” she whispers, her voice barely loud enough to hear over the thumping of my heart behind my eardrums.
“No,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut, willing this to be a dream. This isn’t happening. I shake my head from side to side, “No! No, no, no!”
“Ellie, yes,” Mum says. “Cancer, ovarian cancer. Stage two.”
; I suck in a breath and hold it, my mum can’t be ill. A million questions fly through my head. She can’t leave me, she’s too young. What will we do? How will we survive if she can’t work? Does Dad make enough money for us? I’m not even out of school yet.
“But… what about?” I can’t form a coherent sentence before the tears start. Soon, I’m sobbing uncontrollably, helpless to stop myself, unable to be strong for my mum.
“Shhhhh , Ellie. It’ll be alright.” My mum has circled the table and is crouching down next to my chair. I throw my arms around her, clinging to her. I can’t lose her. Dad finally snaps out of his trance, coming over to wrap us both in his arms.
They bring me over to the sofa where we manage to discuss her plans. Our plans. Chemo, surgery, social benefits, leave of absence from work. First and foremost, they insist that I finish school and take my A-levels as planned. No matter how much I argue that I should quit school and get a job, they refuse to budge on this. I agree just to keep them happy. At this point, I’ll do anything to make it easier for my parents, anything.
When I finally drag myself into bed and lay down, I’m too exhausted to cry, to think, to make sense of anything. All I can do is feel, and it’s the one thing I wish I couldn’t do.
chapter 12
Adam
“Where’s Ellie today?” Dax asks me after our first class.
“I have no idea,” I answer. “She didn’t look ill yesterday, and couldn’t have rung me even if she were.” It’s not as if my mum is conscious enough to have a phone installed let alone pay the bill every month. Hell, I’m lucky to have heat and electricity, and that’s only because I live in council housing.
“That’s odd. You going to stop by her place after school?”
I think about it for a minute before making a decision. “Nah, I’m going now. I’m only at school to see her, so what’s the point of staying?” I punch Dax on the arm, “See you later?”
