I grabbed the bowl next to the bed, choking and retching as my insides contracted again. Just as I felt I was going to faint from the pain, it stopped. I dropped the bowl weakly onto the table and fell onto the pillows. It was the middle of the night and here I was, alone once more. Alex was on rounds, and even if he hadn’t been he would only be here trying to find the right thing to do or say, which I just couldn’t handle; Mer, Cristina and Lexie were probably all sleeping and George…well, I hadn’t seen George since before I was sick. Why didn’t he come? I needed George the most. He was my best friend, and he knew me. I knew if he came I would feel better – George always knows what to say. He knows what to do. He’d calm me down and cheer me up. But George didn’t want to see me.

As my eyes filled with tears, I turned gingerly onto my side, but this triggered another wave of nausea and my hands fumbled for the bowl again. This one was worse than the last, and I sat there bent over the horrible plastic tub for over ten minutes, each twist of my stomach more violent. I wanted to scream, but my throat was blocked, my head was in too much pain to bear the noise and besides, I could barely speak. I barely had the energy to lift the bowl off my chest and onto the table for what must be the tenth time that night. My face was wet with tears, my head was pounding and my mouth was filled with the taste of acid. But despite this, I was finally exhausted and was dragged into sleep, away from the sickness for a few merciful hours.

*

The lids of my eyes were heavy, but I could sense someone was there in the chair, and I couldn’t miss a visitor. I needed them. I forced my eyes open to see George sitting beside me.

‘Hey, Iz.’ Him being here and the sound of his voice made me want to jump up and jug him, screaming for joy. But I couldn’t, so I gave him a weak smile and stretched out my fingers. He took the hint and grasped them. I clung to his hand with all the strength I had.

‘I…I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you before,’ he said, looking impossibly guilty. ‘I just – ’

‘It’s okay,’ I whispered, ‘you’re here now.’

He smiled gratefully, but I could still see the guilt in his eyes. ‘I was angry at you, Iz. You told Cristina, but you didn’t tell me. You didn’t even like Cristina that much. Everyone kept saying you needed me, but, I thought, you didn’t then so why would you now?’

‘I should have told you. I should have told all of you, but I was scared. But I know now that I need you here with me. All of you, especially you, George.’ I stared at him, hoping he would realise how much I wanted him to stay. He understood what I was telling him, just as I’d known he would.

‘I’m not going anywhere, Iz. You can count on having to see my ugly mug every day.’

I managed a wheezy laugh, but inside I was thrilled. He wouldn’t have to say a word; the fact that he would be there would be enough for me. For the first time since this illness had all begun, I felt truly happy. I may not live forever, but I’d have all the people I loved with me at the moments that mattered. I wouldn’t be alone when the time came. If the time came.