Cancer, Sweetie.

Our friend David (David M. Pretentious David, not lovely David, David C) has had a long time boyfriend, Harry de Wit, who is just so full of himself, so opinionated and really just rude to people. He is obnoxious. Yes, that is a good description of him, loud and obnoxious. He took a dislike to me, I have no idea why? (smiley emoji) And he blanked Jill out very early on due to some imagined slight about not being invited to some party at some stage early in the relationship. 

So, as you can guess, we have never really liked him that much. We refer to him as the poisonous one.

Sam and I went to visit our friend Rachel, who has remained friends with David & Harry de Wit, yesterday at her place in the country. We drank tea we ate chocolate chip biscuits and had a look at how her renovations are coming along.

As we were leaving, Rachel told us that Harry had been unwell. My ears pricked up.

"Really?" Do tell. I hoped it was serious.

So, I thought to myself, the poisonous one is finally being poisoned by "her" own poison, now there’s a surprise. "She" holds grudges so tightly, and hate so fondly, there is a palpable bitterness about "her", so it is no surprise to me "she" has broken out somewhere giving "herself" “the boils.”

I sent a message to Jill today.

Good news about the poisonous one, cancer.

Rachel told me he's had bladder cancer.

"Oh, really, that's a tough one to survive," I say. I wondered what the survival rate is?

"He's just got his 12 month results, so hopefully…"

"Hopefully," I repeat, not daring to have anything but a straight face. And I thought to myself, funny, your hopefully and my hopefully are hopeful for different outcomes.

I think Rachel said he was sharing his results with her at afternoon tea.

Cross your fingers, I thought.

You are terrible, replied Jill.

* usual disclaimer applies, nothing I say, or think, will affect the poisonous bitch's health outcome in any way.