More vomit and tears!( That'll teach you to ask!)

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad (series editor Bonzi Cat).
part 65.

I spent most of the night either asleep or shivering, that was when the stomach cramps weren't too active, and I was sick again. It was a memorable night, I hadn't been ill like this since ...I don't know when. It was like I was drunk, my head spun faster than a CD in a player and I felt so ill. I awoke at about ten and crawled to the bathroom. It was just as well I sat on the loo these days, because I'd have fallen over trying to stand up. I grabbed a glass of water and my phone and went back to bed.

I sent a text to Stella, advising her that I was ill but as I didn't know what it was, to keep away in case she caught it. After that and drinking the water I felt exhausted and drifted off to sleep. Some time later I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing. It was Stella.

"How are you doing?"

"Terrible."

"What's the problem?"

"Dunno, sick and shivery earlier now I feel hot and sweaty."

"Got any paracetamol?"

"Can't take them after.." I didn't know if she knew of my suicide attempt, so I kept quiet.

"After what?"

"I had a liver problem, they told me not to take them."

"Oh," it sounded as if she was questioning what I'd said, which I suppose as a nurse she might. "So you can't take them at all?"

"Nah, I'm allergic or something," I lied and blushed making myself feel even hotter.

"That's very unusual," she didn't sound convinced.

"That's me." I wished I had kept completely quiet.

"Egomaniac," she chirped, she was probably right.

"Can I get you anything?"

"A new body, this one feels shot."

"Ha ha, do you need any food or drink?"

"Not really, I got everything last night."

"Flat Coke is good for dehydration, it's pretty well isotonic."

"Yeah, it's bad enough to drink when it's fizzy, when it's flat it's 'orrible."

"Suit yourself. Just make sure you drink plenty."

"I will, water seems to be staying down for the moment."

"Oh good. Look I have to go and do a clinic I'll ring a bit later."

"Thanks." I felt glad that someone knew I was at death's door, at least that way they would find the body before the flies got too numerous.

I slept some more and awoke about five feeling very thirsty and my stomach was rumbling like a thunderstorm. I made a miky coffee in the microwave and drank it. It wasn't my favourite drink but it would give me some nourishment and enable me to see how sensitive my tummy was to the idea of food.

My temperature seemed to be near normal and I was sitting about in my nightdress, a tee shirt thing with a picture of a panda on the front. I had just sipped the first mouthful of my coffee when the door was knocked, I nearly dropped the cup in my lap.

The knock was repeated, rat tat tat. I put the cup down and edged towards the door. If it was Big Mac and friends, I was in no position to do anything but try and survive the siege. It couldn't be Simon, he was in London and I'd told Stella to keep away, so who could it be?

I was now stood behind the door and I didn't know which was pounding the hardest, my heart or my head. I felt awful. The door was knocked again and I nearly jumped out of my body.

"Come on Cathy, open up!" followed by a another rat tat tat. The voice was female and had to be Stella's.

I drew open the door, "Keep away, I don't know if it's contagious," I sort of half spoke and half croaked.

"Good, I could do with a few days off, maybe they'd miss me then," Stella declared as she breezed into my room with a huge bunch of flowers and large bottle of the leading brand of cola. "I'd have brought you some fruit but I didn't know if it would make you sick. How are you?"

"Better than I was," I sat down before I fell over. Picking up my coffee, I took a small sip.

"Good, now make sure you drink plenty and this is the stuff."

"Yeah okay," I groaned.

She felt my head, "You don't have a temperature. So what is it, food poisoning?"

"I don't know."

"God, you don't like Abba do you?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

"Oh my giddy aunt, did you know that Simon is a closet Abba fan."

"No I didn't." I was surprised at this revelation.

"This CD looks pretty new, you sure you didn't know?"

"No I didn't. I bought that yesterday, I heard one of the tracks on the radio and couldn't get it out of my head."

"So saturation therapy, eh?"

"Something like that."

"I'm willing to bet he's managed to swing one of the theatre trips to go and see Mamma Mia."

"Oh has he?" I was mildly interested but didn't really care, all I wanted to do was finish my coffee and go back to bed. "Sorry, would you like a cup of tea or coffee?"

"Nah thanks anyway, gotta go, things to do, people to shag etcetera."

"Yeah okay," I replied barely noticing her provocative statement.

"If you need anything, let me know." She blew me a kiss and left.

I finished my coffee and crawled back to bed. Around ten my phone told me I had a text. I struggled awake and looked it up.

'Hi S tells me UR ill.
Hope U feel betr soon.
Been 2 c S o Music! OK not
my choice. Will call 2moro.
Get well soon. Si'

No, I thought, you'd rather see Mamma Mia, so probably would I.

I crawled to the bathroom, made another drink and went back to bed.

The next morning I felt a bit better but not right. It was thursday and I needed to get my dissertation finished enough to print off a copy. After the usual ablutions, I sat eating some cereal while the kettle boiled and my hair dried. Throwing on some clothes, namely a pair of jeans and jumper, I sat at the computer and reread my draft.

"God, this is so boring," I confided to myself, but I emailed a copy to the good professor and printed off a hard copy and did a back up disc. I made a drink and sat down in my easy chair. I woke up at about five when the door was knocked. It had to be Stella, I opened it and was about to say something cheeky to her when I realised it was a complete stranger. She was carrying a huge bouquet of flowers.

"Miss Watts?"

"Yes," I croaked.

"These are for you." She shoved the flowers into my hands and left. I opened the card attached and they were from Simon, wishing me better. I shut the door, put them on the table and burst into tears.

An hour later I had composed myself enough to send him a thank you text. I went for a little walk to the street and back and found a letter in my mail box.

'Dear Cathy,

Thank you for your support at your mother's funeral. I didn't have time to tell you, but you looked very much like her when she was younger, which is a roundabout way of saying you looked lovely.

I was too upset to notice too much of anything, for which I hope you will forgive me. Friends tell me that they could see you were my daughter but they didn't speak to you because you seemed rather distressed and your friend was very protective, keeping everyone away from you.

I hope we can begin again and progress beyond the mistakes we made. I know you are busy, but see if you can find some time to come and see me. I sent the heart people a cheque for research in her memory, maybe it will help save some other family grieving.

love,

Dad.
xx'

So my mother had died of a heart attack, it made sense in terms of the suddeness of it all, not that I was any sort of expert. I felt overcome by her loss, went to my bed and cried myself to sleep.