20 Monday 30 December
The doorbell rarely rings at this time in the morning, but it has, and it’s yanked me from my sleep. My first thought is to try and remember what I must have ordered from sss recently. My second is that it says a lot about my life that I automatically assume the only person who’d pay me a visit at the weekend is a delivery driver.
I throw on my dressing gown and head downstairs before opening the door. The second I see Mum and Dad standing there, and before I’ve even registered the looks on their faces, I know exactly what’s happened.
‘No,’ I say, my legs turning weak and my eyes fluttering as my dad steps inside and embraces me.
‘Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,’ he says. The man who’s just lost his mother, whose first instinct is to act as a rock to everyone else.
‘Th
