A monster on her shoulder
I took a tray into Mum. She was sitting, hunched up in bed, scared of the food tray. I pretended I hadn’t seen the expression on her face, and put the tray down anyway. And while I smiled that new, gentle, careful smile of mine, and tried not to think about the two lectures I had missed, I wondered if this would be the day the monster would tell Mum to die.
‘Would you like to try a piece of this cake?’ I whispered. Mum eyed me like a captive spy would eye the enemy who offered up a conventional temptation.
‘I might... I’ll see, maybe – soon,’ she said and slid across the bed, away from the tray.
I wandered over to the window. There was Maggie from next-door, flaunting her new curves and waving her newspaper at any passer-by who dared to get near her gate. I ha
