There were enthusiastic nods all round.

‘We appear to have a mike and a guitar at least. The rest of the props, scenery, costumes and all, we can work on, so what do you say we have a listen to our girl band today, assuming you’re ready, girls?’

Madi saw the smallest of the girls, who she now knew was called Chantelle, look across at Donny adoringly, and Donny give her a reassuring nod, his cheeks reddening when he realised Madi had seen.

‘Just give us one song for now,’ Tom went on, oblivious to the mini-romance blossoming right in front of his eyes. ‘And our soloist with guitar can follow on. Gerry, that’s you. And then our poet maybe. But keep it light, eh? It’s an entertainment show, so no doom-and-gloom stuff. That should give us a flavour of what’s to come, and highlight any areas that might need work.’

Madi sat at the back of the hall and smiled. This took her back. The first day of rehearsals, a cast getting together for the first time, a new play to look forward to, with all the excitement and anticipation that went with it. Would they gel? Would there be backstage fallings out, costume malfunctions, problems with the scenery changes, an understudy having to step up at the last minute? Or would it all run like clockwork, with a full house, appreciative audiences, rave reviews? She had to admit she missed it. All of it. The good and the bad.

A steady stream of willing parents had been in and out, bringing clothes they thought might make good costumes, dropping off forgotten lunchboxes and volunteering their services for everything from make-up and refreshments to ticket production and sales. Choosing a Saturday to get the ball rolling had been a good idea. Most people had time on their hands and there was no rush to get finished and out of the hall quickly.

Madi’s hand went instinctively to her side, slipping in beneath her open coat, over her jumper, feeling gently up and under her breast, and then moving tentatively to the other side, running her fingers along the line of her scar. She was healing. There was no pain now as she reached for something, carried something, turned awkwardly in bed. Just a soreness, and that nagging sense of loss that still reminded her of the emotional pain which she knew would take longer to heal than the physical. But this was it now. The breast was gone and, hopefully, it had taken the cancer with it. She had to be grateful for that.

As she watched the three girls take to the stage, saw the eagerness in their faces and the nervousness in their eyes, she knew exactly how they felt, caught up in the magic and the thrill of it all. Without a doubt, in that moment, she knew that she would go back to acting. How could she not? It was all she knew, all she had ever wanted to do, and she couldn’t allow a disease to stop her, especially now it had buggered off back where it came from. Cancer, exit stage left …