I lost my mom to cancer. Of course she was much older than you. It’s a horrible disease and I’m really sorry you have it. I’d like to donate to your wedding party, do you have a fundraising page? Or an account we can deposit into?

So sorry to read about your illness. I think what you’re doing is a great idea. Go out with a bang! I don’t have any money to spare sorry, but I do have my old wedding dress just hanging in the wardrobe going to waste. It’s a size 14 and I’ll attach a photo. If you’d like to wear it get in touch!

I’m so busy sifting through the messages I don’t notice Amanda slip in to leave a cup of green tea on my bedside drawers, and I only realize it’s there once it’s stone cold. The whole time I’m reading, more comments are arriving on the page. Most are thoughts of goodwill. But more and more are offers of money, or goods and services for the wedding. Four DJs have offered their services, as have an assortment of beauticians. There are even offers of venues.

Hey there from the marvelous Marlborough Sounds! Cancer sucks, I lost my sister to it last year. She was only 36 and a mum to two young boys. Seeing what she went through was hell and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. My husband and I own a winery, it’s a small family business in a stunningly picturesque area. Google Anchor Bay Winery and you’ll see. If you’d like to hold your wedding here give me a call, we’ll come to an arrangement.

“You see?”

Amanda is peering around the door frame. When I don’t immediately yell at her or chuck her phone in her face she comes into the room and perches again on the side of the bed.

“I’m still not thrilled that you did it,” I tell her. “But I know your intentions were good.”

“Exactly. And look how many offers of help we’ve had.”

I shake my head. “I still can’t accept any of this. It’s too generous. There are so many other people out there more deserving than me.”

She sighs and picks up my hand. “Ava, sweetheart, I love you, but sometimes you can be a total pain in the arse.”

“Hey,” I protest.

“Sorry, but it’s true. These people want to do something for you.”

“Only because I’m sick.”

“Yes, only because you are sick. But what’s wrong with that?”

I shrug. “It just feels weird.”

“Look at it this way. You’d really be doing them a favor.”

“Oh, really, and how do you figure that?”

“It’s simple. People like to help other people. It makes them feel good about themselves. People like knowing that they’ve made a difference in someone’s life. It’s called being kind and it’s actually a worldwide movement right now.”

I look at her doubtfully.

“Seriously. Look it up if you don’t believe me. With so much awfulness in the world people like to show kindness to strangers. Why shouldn’t you reap some of that? Huh?”