14. Family ties

The minute she got off the train, I wanted to tell her. I wanted it out of the way and to be able to move on from it. I was terrified that she’d be hysterical, given that she was a nervous wreck for two days when we had to have the cat put down.

S met us at a pub nearby and took us back to his. He made tea and prodded me to go in to the lounge to tell her. She half guessed when I told her not to panic and was very strange. No hysterics, no out of control reaction. S was there and backed up what I was saying about it being curable and she seemed to accept it.

The next morning, my mum called. Since I’d told I, I decided, on the spot I should tell my mum and did. I knew what her reaction would be and sure enough… I told her to calm down and that I’d be fine. I told her I needed to stay calm so everyone else had to. Which to her credit she did. I really wish it hadn’t been necessary though.

From that point on it was weird with I. We all knew. It came up every now and then. But the atmosphere was REALLY strange, you could have cut it with a knife. This continued all week. It was hard work. I felt I had to be upbeat and cheerful because I didn’t want her to worry, but this made ME feel worse. A good cry every now and then eases the tension and seems to keep me on an even keel.

Our hotel was a B&B. The room was OK, but not the luxury we’d paid for. The atmosphere continued while we were out. Normally, I’d sweat and worry about it, but frankly, cancer has made me selfish. I just wanted it to stop and I wasn’t overly prepared to try to fix things. The evening got slightly better as we got drunker, she seemed to cheer up, in a manic sort of way, once she got chatting to someone.

The one really positive thing that came out of the week away was that S is obviously more than up to the job of guardian. He looked out for her, insisted we went bra shopping, didn’t complain AT ALL about the wait (an hour and a half) while she was fitted and tried on 12 bras. In all ways, he acted like a model father, with a camp twist. When she and I argued, which we did by the last day, he sheltered under the newspaper, only putting his nose out when she’d gone out for a cigarette to say ‘WHAT was that?’ Frankly, I think he’s probably better at the job than I am.

The journey back to London was OK. We were all tired. Saying goodbye to S was hard. I made him leave quickly, giving me no chance to get sentimental. Saying goodbye to I was worse, but I thought I’d be seeing her within a week, so didn’t make a fuss.

The first class carriage between London and Newcastle was nice. I had a whole table to myself and managed to do ALL my coursework marking, which was exceptionally satisfying. Just a brief visit into school (or so I thought) and I’d be done.