ARABELLA • Alex Turner

TWENTY SIX

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     Arabella had always adored sunny days, ever since she was a little kid.

She associated them with light and life and warmth and happiness. With picnics in the park and big family barbecues and open-air festivals. With laughter and good music and even better people.

   When the doctor rang with the results of her Mum's biopsy and she saw the sunlight filtering in through the kitchen window, she remembered feeling relatively optimistic.

Nothing bad happened on sunny days.

Or so she thought, until she found out that her mother's brain tumour was inoperable.

The shock prevented her from being upset at first. She sat with the rest of the family, Alex's comforting presence beside her, and watched, numb, while they all cried.

It wasn't cancerous, the doctor had said. The tumour was small and slow-growing and potentially treatable with drugs and radiotherapy, but it was located near the brainstem and therefore impossible to remove.

The prognosis was pretty good, all things considered, but that didn't stop Arabella from feeling like the world was crashing down around her.

People got sick. She knew that. But the thought of someone she loved getting sick, least of all her Mum, was unfathomable.

For three days she stayed home and cried, and for three days Alex sat by her side like the angel he was, bringing her food and reading to her and making sure she drank water.

   She was fairly certain that he was supposed to be working and she felt awful that he had practically put his life on hold, but no matter how many times she tried to persuade him to leave without her, he never listened.

As much as she wanted to go back to Sheffield with Alex and continue building a life for herself in which she could thrive, her family needed support, and she fully intended to tell Sophie that she was deferring for a year in order to stay in London.

   That was until Lisa accosted her in the kitchen on the fourth day of her moping, however, and practically demanded that she return to university.

"Come here darling, sit with me a minute." The woman spoke from the breakfast table as she watched her daughter stir milk into a cup of tea, staring into space while the spoon clinked repeatedly against the porcelain.

   Arabella looked up, and her legs carried her to the table without her brain processing a single thing. She had felt like a ghost the entire week, floating around the house without any sense of direction or purpose, and even though she knew that it was selfish, she missed being oblivious to the tumour. The mere thought of it was eating her up inside.

   When she sat down, her Mum grabbed her by the hand and squeezed tightly.

   "Look at me baby."

   The girl reluctantly made eye contact, already knowing what was coming. Lisa Stevens had always wanted what was best for her babies regardless of her own wishes, and while sacrifice was supposedly what motherhood was all about, Arabella didn't like the idea of leaving her so soon.

   "I'm okay. Alright? I'm fine. You heard the doctor. I could live for another decade with this thing, and that's if they don't treat it first." Lisa began, tone firm. "I love you darling, but we both know that you belong in Sheffield with your friends. That's where your heart is."