Afraid to move my eyes from her face, look at my father or see Mam’s frail body lying there, I sit paralysed in the chair. Then her hand, resting on top of the covers, opens and reaches out to me. I look at it. The thin bony hand. It makes me nervous but I put my hand in hers and she squeezes it with the little strength she has left.

I lean in closer to my mam, turning her hand over until I am squeezing it. I take a deep breath and in that moment I move from being my mother’s daughter to being my mother’s saviour.

‘Of course I’ll help you, Mam.’

I don’t question her decision. It is her decision. I know this has to go as smoothly as possible for my mother’s sake. For all our sakes.

I tell her I know a few people in the medical world. Faye immediately springs to mind. I can trust Faye. She would want me to trust her, but I will tell her not to get involved, just to point me in the right direction because what I am about to do is illegal.

Exactly how this is going to play out isn’t decided by the time I leave the room, but I promise my mother I will do what I can for her. I will make it happen.

I’m doing my best to stay calm but on the inside everything is shaking. My legs are barely able to hold me up. I step out of what has now become Mam’s downstairs bedroom because she can no longer walk upstairs. Then I fall to the ground.

I’m lying here, unable to move, howling silently. My mouth is open, my body is screaming but I cannot let her hear me. I have to absorb as much of her pain as possible. Tears burn every inch of my face as I plead with God to stop time from passing.

My father eventually comes out of the room and nods at me to join him in the kitchen. His red face appears to have swelled up from all the crying and it’s hard to focus on his eyes because the pain is so heavy behind them.

‘We have to do it,’ he says.

‘I know.’

The words screech out of my mouth. I fall forward into my dad’s arms. We sit there, hugging, crying. I want to ask him what he thinks. But his opinion doesn’t matter, my opinion doesn’t matter – not even God’s opinion matters now.

When the last sigh of weakness leaves my body I replace it with a plea for strength. The strength I am going to need to see this through.

Chapter Forty-Five