Ripples of contentment quiver through Sasha’s body.
She stretches in her bed, feels the tingle in her toes right up to the top of her head. Life is good. She leaps out from under the covers and walks into the kitchen. Gerry’s already there, preparing breakfast for the two of them.
‘Morning,’ he says, pecking her cheek.
‘You ready for this morning?’
‘Crap!’ Sasha had forgotten. The dreaded vis-a-vis with her mother.
‘You’ll be alright? Or do you need me to come along?’ Gerry asks.
‘Nah, I’ll manage. Thanks though.’ She rubs his arm. Thoughts of the planned discussion with her mum crowd her mind. She knows already that Mum will resist. Sasha’s siblings are no help; they’ve left it to her, conveniently stating that is the role of the Power of Attorney after all.
‘Well, call if you change your mind.’
‘Thanks darl,’ Sasha responds. All the happiness and joy she felt on waking has shattered, instead she’s left with dread and concern. She looks at the breakfast Gerry prepared. Bile rises in her throat; she tips it into the bin.