Part Thirty Five

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Chapter Thirty Five

Monica looked dreadful, that was no lie, and unlike on her overdramatic days, she was in bed, green, a bowl that she'd vomited in several times beside her.

"Shit mother, you look dreadful. Why didn't you call me?"

She shrugged, her eyes falling closed, "you don't need me being a burden."

Sammy laughed, "you are not a burden. You are selfish, a pain in the arse, a headache, but you're not a burden. Ok?"

Monica gave a weak nod.

"Well your bedding is stinking; I hate to think what those marks are on your right." When she groaned Sammy chuckled, "you gonna be sick again?"

Her mother shook her head, "nothing left in me."

"Ok, I'm going to make up my bed so you can lie in while I strip this one, but first you can change into clean pyjamas, I'm not going to subject you to a shower, I don't think you'd manage it." Monica nodded in agreement. "Before I change the bed I'll get you some ginger tea, it helps the nausea, and I also brought some miso soup, Mrs Roberts in the library swears it's the only way to reintroduce the stomach, and the body to food. Whilst you're having that, I'll be changing the bedding and sorting out your washing, ok?"

Suddenly her flippancy, her almost antagonistic behaviour dissolved and her mother reached out and took her hand, "thanks Sammy. I know you must have a million other things to be doing."

She shook her head, "it was never about not being here to help you, I only ever wanted my own space."

An hour later her mother was reclined in her freshly made bed. It had been heavy work but she had stripped both beds, fed her mother, and got her pain and nausea under control.

"I'm going to get Sarah to come and sit with you tonight."

Monica grimaced, but Sammy could see the smile beneath that. Sarah was a friend of hers who had been away for a few weeks. So they would have a lot to talk about.

"I'll call back this evening, and tomorrow. Sarah will give you some food later; you just need to rest, ok?"

Monica's eyes were closed, and she knew for all her bravado and attention seeking, she really was exhausted. Cancer was cruel, evil even...but the chemotherapy seemed equally as bad on some days.

Pausing at the doorway she felt sadness as she looked at her, curled up in bed, pain evident on her face. For all her faults she was her only relative other than Eleanor, and she didn't want to lose her, that was imperative, she needed her, despite how little she offered back.

She was mentally and physically exhausted when she got back to her home, and wished she'd accepted Joel's offer of his car. As she headed along the High Street she waved to Corinne cutting hair in the window of her salon, still smiling at her friend's crazy expression, she decided on a whim to call in to the bakery.

Diane had worked there since she was a teenager and new to town, she was what Sammy imagined a mother should be, warm, cuddly and friendly.

"Samantha!" Hardly anyone called her Samantha, she didn't dislike the name, but she'd never been a formal person.

"Hi Diane, you been busy today?"

She shrugged, "getting ready for the holidays, so it's getting there. How's that mother of yours?"

Sammy smiled a tight smile, "bad day, it's day two post chemo."

Diane squirmed, she'd lost her husband to cancer a few years earlier, she knew how hard it was. "Never easy, for the patient...OR the family."

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