Chapter Thirty One: 'So soon forsaken.'

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Sat there, in the living room, was Harry’s mum.

Isis frowned. Why had this caused her mum to look like a ghost?

‘Hi, Sandra,’ she said, in what she hoped was a friendly way. Harry’s mum had always been lovely to Isis, consistently bubbly and warm hearted, but the woman before her now could barely muster a smile. She was pale too, dark circles under her eyes marking the fact that she hadn’t slept.

‘Hello Isis,’ she replied, wrapping her fingers more tightly around her mug of tea. Isis went to sit down next to her.

‘Is everything alright?’ Isis inquired. The only reason she could think of for Harry’s mum for come here was to tell her off for not accepting Harry when he asked her out. But surely… Sandra wouldn’t do that, would she?

Sandra gulped. ‘Well, no.’ She put down the mug, and fiddled with her fingers instead.

Isis frowned. ‘Is Harry alright?’

Sandra shook her head. ‘No. That’s the thing, Isis. Harry’s got cancer.’

Cancer. For a moment, Isis froze, unable to think of anything. The harshness of the word made every thought impossible, and she merely stared at Sandra, blankly. Cancer? Cancer?!

Sandra ran her fingers through her short brown bob, and chewed her lower lip. ‘We only found out for sure yesterday, but we realised something was up for a while.’

‘He’s been pale for a long time,’ Isis replied, her voice a hoarse whisper. She couldn’t believe it.

Sandra nodded. ‘He’s been in a lot of pain.’ She attempted to smile, weakly. ‘But, you know what he’s like though, such a trooper.’

Isis nodded. ‘Yes. Wh… where is the cancer?’

‘His kidneys. Both of them, unfortunately.’

‘And… is it going to…’ Isis found that she couldn’t say the word kill. ‘Is it going to be fatal?’

Sandra looked at her fingers again. ‘Well, that’s why I’m here, Isis.’ She glanced up and met Isis’s eyes. ‘The doctors say that, if he fights it, because he’s young, he could survive.’

‘So he should be okay?’ Isis felt air whoosh into her lungs with relief. She’d been dreading Sandra saying that he might have only weeks or months to live.

‘He should be,’ Sandra said. ‘But he’s not fighting it.’

‘What?!’ Isis sat up straight, panic flooding through her. ‘Why not?!’

Sandra gulped. ‘Because…’ Her voice went wobbly, as if she was trying to hold back the tears. ‘He says he has nothing to live for anyway.’

Isis’s eyes widened. Sandra looked at her, and bit her lip, going on. ‘Isis, I know that you said you couldn’t love my son like that when he told you how he felt about you, but… he loves you so much, that it could well be the difference between life and death for him if you changed your mind.’

She couldn’t help it, her eyes filled with tears. Harry wasn’t fighting because she had rejected him? Oh no. Oh no.

‘I know this isn’t fair on you,’ Sandra continued. ‘But you have to realise, Harry could well die. This… as a mother, I can’t watch my son just fade away, Isis.’ Tears were properly streaming down her face now, as she watched Isis’s expression, like a hawk.

‘But… but Sandra, I don’t like Harry like that!’ Isis said, suddenly finding words. ‘Won’t he realise that I… that I don’t feel like that myself? Won’t that be worse for him?’

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