Page 35 of While I’m Still Here

“What is Colin Fletcher doing there?” Oh, for fuck's sake. “Did he stay the night?”

I stare at my phone. This is astonishing. My mother has managed to travel from MY DAUGHTER HAS CANCER to HAS MY DAUGHTER FINALLY SHAGGED COLIN FLETCHER? in approximately four minutes.

Frankly, I'm impressed. “That feels unrelated.”

“Oh my God.”

“Mum.”

“You slept with Colin!”

Across the table, Colin silently mouths, “Do not involve me”

I give him the finger, and he rolls his eyes back. “Can we return to the cancer?” I ask my mother.

“No!”

I blink. “No?”

“I have been telling you for years that boy is in love with you.”

My mouth falls open. Slowly, I turn towards Colin, and he suddenly finds the kitchen table fascinating. “You fucking knew?” I demand.

Mum immediately says, “Language.”

I point at Colin even though she can't see me. “She knew!”

“I can hear her.”

“She says she knew!”

Colin drags a hand over his face. “Fantastic.”

“I've been telling you for years,” Mum continues smugly through what I suspect are still tears.

I stare at Colin. “You told me nobody knew.”

“I told you I didn't tell anyone.”

“That is not the same fucking thing.”

“It is technically different.”

“Everyone knew!” Mum announces.

Colin groans, and I point harder. “Seven years!”

“Yes, Bea. I'm aware,” he deadpans. “I was the one pining for two thousand, five hundred, and fifty-five days.”

“You absolute fucking idiot,” I snarl.

“Again,” Mum interrupts, “language.”

“Mum, I have cancer. I think I'm allowed to say fuck.”

There's a pause. “Well... perhaps temporarily.”

I laugh. Mum laughs too, although hers collapses into another little sob halfway through, and somehow, just like that, the horror cracks enough to let some air inside. Eventually, after I promise eleven separate times to call after every appointment, promise not to Google survival statistics, promise to eat, promise to sleep, promise to tell her if I need anything, and categorically refuse her offer to move into my flat, I finally manage to end the call.