NO more relationships with 'girls next door'!; - after TWO in the 'Priory Street Posse'!

had cancelled the holiday this weekend under the tragic
circumstances. At present it was blowing a gale, was very cold
and chucking it down with rain. The weather forecast was
correct though – by Friday a good bank holiday weekend was in
the offing – a real rarity in this country. So I was quite wet
when I got on the top floor ward in the tower, and saw my
father and daughter looking after my Mother in her last few
hours, with a stunning view out of the very well sound proofed
windows, to the West over central London, with Regent’s Park
then Wembley’s new stadium beyond the Euston Road below.
However Mum was never able to appreciate that view – they
got me to wash my hands with surgical soap provided in the
sink in the room, for risk of infection, then chat to them, and
her, even though she was barely conscious and breathing with
difficulty. She could only just open an eye sometimes, then
briefly. However, she nodded when first I, later my daughter
Jeni and then brother Jem turned up, the latter from as far
away as his holiday in Crete. Occasionally she asked for water
or a yoghurt drink, which my sister carefully gave her out of a
baby bottle – and her lips were very dry, so twice while I was
there my sister applied Vaseline to her lips. Also they said her
limbs were terribly swollen – her arms were visible, so that was
obvious – and skin was flaking off her knees and elbows. Her
immune system had broken down, for the liver cancer had
erupted fully at last, and now spread to her kidneys. When the
whole family was all present at once, including her eldest
grandchild, Jeni, in tears throughout, she seemed to realise it,
but by now was in some discomfort from the pain of the cancer,
as well as two bedsores, so drifted unconscious when an
Australian nurse came in and gave her first a painkilling
injection, then a long-term slow injection of morphine and other
drugs through a large syringe that would last hours. I had
actually popped out and had a chicken and ham baguette and a
coffee at a coffee down the Tottenham Court Road for half an
hour while Jeni was brought by train by her mother Helen and
Rodney, who only popped in briefly to say goodbye to my
Mother in her last hours, before leaving Jeni there in tears over
her beloved grandmother, and themselves grabbing a meal in
the hospital restaurant. Jeni was in the room sitting on the
couch there sobbing quietly at about 6.20pm when I got back.
Shortly after that Jem arrived from the airport, having as I said
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