Free All of Me by Kim Noble

she asked.
    ‘Yes, perfectly straightforward procedure. We were lucky to catch it in time.’
    ‘Will it return?’
    ‘Will what return?’
    ‘The ulcer.’
    The consultant stared at Mum like she was mad. She wondered if they were speaking about the same patient.
    ‘Jim Noble,’ she said. ‘You just operated on him. You took out a stomach ulcer.’
    The consultant stared at Mum and said, ‘My dear woman, your husband didn’t have an ulcer. He has cancer. We’ve just removed three-quarters of his stomach.’
    Cancer? Dad hadn’t told anyone. God knows what the consultant thought but Mum felt such an idiot. Typical of him, though, she must have thought. Always keeping secrets.
    Dad was put onto a ward with the other people who’d had similar operations. He was only forty-two and the youngest one there by several decades. Mum hated going to visit him. One day she came back and said one of the old boys who’d had the same op as Dad had died in the night. The next day she said another one had gone. Then a third.
    ‘I think we’re going to have to prepare for the worst,’ she said. She burst out crying, joined soon after by Lorraine. Later Mum told me, ‘You never cried. You were always so hard.’
    But Dad was a fighter. They might have been dropping like flies around him but he plugged away. After a few weeks the doctors said he could come home. The next thing I knew, he was back in the lounge, because he was too weak to climb the stairs every day. But at least he wasn’t angry any more. We could cook without listening to him screaming about the smells wafting in.
    For a while things were back to normal. Then one day Lorraine arrived and announced she’d left her husband. He’d cheated on her. They were over. There was no way back. I didn’t want to give up my room but she refused to go in with Nan. Everyone else agreed.
    ‘It’s not right for a married woman.’
    I wasn’t too happy about that but generally Lorraine and I had never been closer. Five years is a huge gap when one of you is interested in boys and the other is still playing with dolls. By the time Lorraine had moved back in we were both old enough to get along. The older we got, the less important the gap seemed.
    Friday nights were important times for Lorraine and Mum. That was Mum’s night out with the girls and once Lorraine was back, she started going out with her as well. At fourteen, I was too young so I stayed in with Nan. Sometimes we played games, sometimes we listened to the radio or watched television if Dad didn’t mind our being in the front room with him.
    One Saturday Dad had felt strong enough to leave the house, although his bed was still set up in the front room. Mum and Lorraine were out for a good time as usual. Nan and I were talking when the phone went.
    ‘Who’s ringing at this time?’ she said as I went to answer. ‘Give them a piece of my mind.’
    I picked up and said, ‘Hello?’
    For the next minute I just listened as an hysterical Lorraine screamed down the phone. I managed to pick out bits and pieces.
    ‘Mum’s been run over! You’ve got to come down. Don’t tell Nan. Whatever you do, don’t let her worry.’
    So many instructions I barely had time to respond. Then the line went dead.
    I went back to Nan.
    ‘Who was that?’ she asked.
    ‘Oh, it was Lorraine,’ I said. That was the easy part.
    ‘What does she want at this time?’
    ‘Mum’s fallen over. She’s drunk. Lorraine wants me to go and help her back.’
    ‘That girl,’ Nan tutted. ‘I’m not waiting up to see this.’
    I grabbed my coat and ran out the door. It was a five-minute run from our house. Mum, Lorraine and a man friend had been crossing the road at the roundabout joining the A23. A car had come bombing around the corner while they were all mid-crossing. Lorraine had been last in the line so she was just scraped. The man was knocked clean over and Mum, who’d been furthest into the road, was slammed onto the hood. Lorraine