So the second reason for coming dahn Sarf was to go to the wedding of one of I's school friends. H is a lovely, lovely girl, leeetle bit misunderstood, bless her. I suspect she was a bit of a pain in the ass at school, what with the smoking (tobacco PLUS), fighting, swearing, lack of respect, BUT she'd had a seriously hard time at home and was effectively homeless at 15. So. Quite a hard paper round. She'd only ever been polite and respectful to me, so I was a fan.
Wedding Saturday. Hen Party Thursday.
We got dolled up and as I's new place was only a 10 minute walk from the town centre, walked in. We met the girls and proceeded to go on a crawl through the pubs and clubs of Bury. On a Thursday night. Ooooweeee. Nice bunch of girls. We were all drinking and getting on well (me, 20 years older than any of the rest of them) when one of 'em got ill. No surprise there, what with all the alcohol that was flowing. But then H filled me in. G has lupus and has been having chemo for 10 years. She's 24. The evening of the hen night, she was 1 week post chemo. Tiny, pretty little thing. Has a toddler daughter. Partner left her 6 months ago.
I held her hair while she threw up. Stroked her head. Life is shit.
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