June 2011 –  I’m at the garage getting petrol and I meet one of my dearest pals. We hug. We laugh. We joke. She looks like she always does.

I know she was back at the Doctor.  I want to ask but I don’t want to know. It hangs between us. She stands there looking as if nothing is remotely wrong. She’s out and about. Everything is normal.

It’s not good news. There’s no way back. How long? “Soon,” she replies. My heart breaks. I hug her again. I tell her how much I love her. She pushes me back telling me not to leave red lipstick on her cheek – as she always do!

We’ll see each other soon. We do. A couple of weeks later. In the Hospice. ‘Soon’ is too soon. In a matter of weeks, she’s gone. My heart breaks.

Seven years later, it’s still broken. I miss her so. xx

2018