‘So you just want to die, is that it?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘I might die as well too then.’

‘You’re drunk and vulnerable, I’m not listening to this.’

‘I’m serious. I don’t want to live. I wanna die as well. We’ll do it together.’

‘You’re young enough to get over your baby. You’ll bounce back.’

‘I don’t want to bounce back. So if you eat that stuff,’ I marched over to the hemlock and poised my hand, ready to pluck, ‘so will I.’

‘No, don’t touch it!’

‘I will, I swear.’ My hand hovered underneath it. My head swam – I was still so nauseous. ‘I thought you were my friend.’

‘I am your friend. We’ve had a lovely day, haven’t we?’

‘But why do you have to die?’

‘Cancer isn’t terribly negotiable.’

‘I know. My mum and my dad died from it. They both decided OK, that’s enough treatment. Nothing else worth staying around for. I’m off now. Not a thought for anyone else. And you’re the same.’

I zoned in on a bed of lantana flowers, pinks and yellows in bloom too early. I staggered over and tore into them, ripping their heads off left right and centre, throwing them at Caro, wrenching and kicking them asunder.

‘You’re a fucking. Selfish. Bitch!’

Petals flew, the air filling with the sweet scents, until all around me were bare, brown stems and spikes. When I was done, I traipsed back through the pink-and-white carpet towards a bench and slumped down. My hands were covered in small red cuts.

Caro walked towards me. ‘Look at the mess you’ve made.’

I felt a hand on my chin and another on the side of my face, forcing my head up to look at the torn-out roots, the pink-and-yellow petals scattered around. I closed my eyes, my eyelids crushing out two tears. She reached into her sleeve, pulling out a clean handkerchief, drying my cheeks with it.

‘You need to stop hating yourself so much. Leave it behind. Start anew. All this anger, it will only lead to no good.’

‘Maybe no good is where I belong,’ I huffed.

‘Don’t talk rot,’ she said, cupping my face. ‘You have to start letting her go, my darling. For your own sake.’

I watched the last of the petals floated to the ground with the others. I looked at my hands, covered with little bubbles of blood. I rubbed them all over my face, smudging it all over me. I still. Felt. Nothing. No pain at all.

Caro looked sternly at me but my stare was unwavering. Slowly, she reached inside her bag and pulled out what she’d taken, throwing them down one at a time, upon the dry earth.

‘What now?’ I sniffed.

‘We shall get some plasters for your hands and a cold flannel for your face… and we shall go home.’