Thank you to all of you who read and reviewed the first chapter of this fic. Apologies it has taken so long to update. It has been a busy time.

I'm not sure if there will be any more of this, as feel it might become too similar to my other multi-chapter The Passing of Time which follows a similar theme.

I hope you enjoy.

The last person Connie Beauchamp had expected to be knocking on her door that evening was Sam Strachan, perhaps Charlie or even Ethan but not Sam. Her face contorted with horror and shock as she saw it was him standing before her, her hands tugging tightly to pull her dressing gown around her, whilst she tried to read his expression.

"Sam, what are you doing here?" Her voice quivered as she spoke, her eyes scanning his face.

"I have a seminar in Cardiff." He lied. "Gracie and I thought we'd surprise you…" he stepped aside, allowing her a clear view of their daughter who remained in the car. "Seeing as you didn't make it to Aspen for Christmas."

"No, well as I said in my message, something came up at work." She kept her face as neutral as she could as she watched her daughter from afar, formulating further excuses in her head to cover her weakness and sudden lack of hair. Her goal being to keep them both in the dark about her current situation in the vain of protecting her child.

"I did believe you... after all it wouldn't be the first time you put work above your daughter." His words cut right through her. "But, you were lying... you're sick." He said bluntly, turning to fully face her.

"What? Don't be so stupid. What makes you say that?" She glared at him, trying to keep her breathing steady. She hadn't told him because she didn't want his sympathy, and in her own way she was protecting Grace.

"I'm a doctor remember." His eyes scanned her before he continued. "You're paler than normal, your eyes have a yellowish tinge, the bruising on your hand is consistent with repeated cannulation… Do you need me to carry on?" She cut him off with a shake of her head, her fingers running over the dark purple bruising on her left hand. "Why didn't you call, Connie?" She looked at him, hating him in that moment for being able to read her so well. Internally giving up all hope that she was going to be able to hide her condition from him now.

"When I called I intended to tell Grace I was unwell... then I reached her voicemail and I couldn't do it. In that moment I decided that if she hated me for choosing work over her it would be easier for her..." She blinked back the tears that had formed in her eyes as she looked passed Sam to her daughter.

"Easier? She was distraught when she thought you put work first again. Why would you want her to think that?"

"Because I was dying." The bluntness in her voice caught him off guard. Charlie had said it wasn't looking good at one point, but hearing those words coming out of Connie Beauchamp's mouth confirmed to him just how serious her condition was. He caught the look of sadness in her eyes as she pushed away a stray tear.

"Connie... I have no doubt that you were just trying to protect her. But Grace needs to know you love her... and if you are..." Suddenly he found the words catching in his throat, untold emotion rising within, "dying. She deserves to know the truth."

Hearing the words coming from Sam's mouth made Connie recoil. Her chances of survival were much higher now than they were a few weeks previously, but still her own mortality regularly played on her mind. It took a moment of two before she nodded. "Both of you come in... But I'm just going to sort myself out. I don't want Grace seeing me like this." She gestured to her attire. "You're right, I do need to tell her. I'd rather break it to her gently though and right now it looks like I'm imminently going to meet my maker." He let out a small laugh as he nodded to her.

Connie disappeared up the stairs and into her bedroom. She sat for a moment staring at herself before she started to smear a range of concealers on her skin, yellow to cover the dark circles beneath her eyes and green to cover the redness of her skin. She then carefully applied layer after layer of makeup until she resembled her normal self once more. Finally, she slipped her new wig over her bald head. It was much better than the awful one she had initially worn, this one framed her face delicately, and had a slight wave much like her natural hair. A small but troubled smile placed itself on her lips, as she thought over just how she was going to tell her 11 year old daughter that she was ill.

Sam had descended the steps from the front door and headed back to the car, opening the front passenger door he addressed his daughter. "Come on kiddo. Mum's just making herself presentable. Apparently, slippers and a fluffy dressing gown wasn't how she wanted to greet you after six months."

"Do behave. As if Mum was wearing a fluffy dressing gown. She'd never be seen dead in one of those." Grace stuffed her belongings into the rucksack by her feet before she climbed free from the car. Stretching her arms and legs as she did. "At least she was here and not at the hospital. Makes a change."

"Gracie…" Sam's voice held a tone of warning to his daughter.

"What?" She huffed as she looked up at the house, the house that until a few months ago she had happily lived in. "It isn't like she has changed." She murmured out of ear shot of her father as she made her way up the path and into the hallway, absorbing the familiarity of the place. It hadn't changed one bit she thought. Sam wasn't far behind her and clicked shut the front door to keep in the warm.

Grace set down her bag at the foot of the stairs, picking up a photo that sat on the dresser. "I love this photo of mum and I…" she said turning to her dad. "It's the one I have on my pin board. I didn't think she'd have it out." Placing the frame back down she headed into the kitchen. "God, is mum opening a pharmacy." Grace called out as she is examined the boxes of drugs lined up on the counter. "Ondansetron… take 1-2 tablets when required to relieve nausea." It was then that Sam appeared behind her, removing the packet from her hands and guiding her away from the counter.

"Come on nosey, let's wait for mum in the sitting room. She won't thank you for poking around." Grace rolled her eyes at her dad, allowing herself to be guided by him.

Connie appeared at the sitting room door as soon as Sam had taken Grace in there. The young girl turned to face her mother, and, in that moment, she suddenly realised just how much she missed her in the time they had been apart. Grace ran at her, wrapping her arms tightly around her. "I've missed you." She said into her mother's chest. Connie reciprocated the gesture and wrapped her arms around her daughter, whispering into her hair how much she loved and had missed her too. Sam stood back watching over the tender moment between mother and daughter. It amazed him how remarkably different Connie now looked to the woman who greeted him 10 minutes previously, you could no longer tell she was ill, she looked the perfect picture of health.

"This is the best surprise, thank you." She said as she looked pulled back from the hug, running her fingers across Grace's cheek. "You've grown so much. You'll be as tall as me soon."

"That's what Dad said." Grace smiled. "He said I look more and more like you every day too."

"Poor kid." For that Sam received a death stare from Connie, he laughed as he sat himself down on a chair at the far end of the room.

"I think you look like my mum" Connie said softly to her daughter. "I'll find a picture of her to show you later." Grace nodded.

"I'd like that… Mum, about Christmas…" the young girl looked up, she saw an uneasy expression cross her mother's face.

"Grace, I need to explain why I couldn't make it." Connie felt emotion rise in her voice, but she tried desperately to suppress it. Shaking her head, Grace took her mother's hand in her own as the pair sat down on the sofa.

"You don't have to… and I don't really want to talk about your work." She said honestly. "I was really upset you didn't come, but what I wanted to say was can we just forget it?" Hearing her daughter's words Connie squeezed the young girls hand tightly.

"Please let me explain Grace." Grace sighed shaking her head.

"I don't want..."

"Hear what your mum has to say, eh Grace?" Sam interrupted, from the other side of the room. Grace looked to her father and nodded slowly as she turned back to her mum.

"I didn't tell you the truth when I phoned at Christmas Grace." Connie said softly.

"What do you mean?" Grace replied, a confused expression finding its way to her face. "So you weren't working?" Connie shook her head. "Were you with Jacob?" Hurt was evident in Grace's voice at the last question.

"I wasn't at work or with Jacob... well I did get called into work the morning I was travelling, but they knew I had to be on my flight that evening, I'd booked the time off months before… I was desperate to see you." She smiled at her daughter softly, trying to find the right words as she continued. "I wasn't well, I couldn't come because I was taken ill. That day I collapsed at the hospital…"

"You collapsed? Why didn't you tell us? Dad and I could have come here to see you."

"I wanted to protect you. You see, I collapsed because I'd been having treatment for a tumour..."

"A tumour, that's cancer." the young girl stated as she cut off her mother and stared at her. Connie swallowed hard.

"Cancer." Connie confirmed with a nod, tears were now brimming in the older woman's eyes as she carried on. "I was admitted to hospital; my heart wasn't working quite right. I tried to leave, so I could come and see you, but I was too poorly. When I called I didn't want to worry you, so I lied and said I was working. I'm so sorry baby girl." Grace leant forward and hugged Connie, resting her head against her shoulder.

"Are you better now?" she said slowly.

"I've had an operation, the tumour is gone now. But I'm still having treatment because they can't be sure it's all gone yet." Connie said keeping her voice steady. Grace clung tightly to her mother, tears dripping down her cheeks.

"I love you so much mummy, please don't die." A sob caught in Connie's throat at Grace's words, this had been why she hadn't told Grace. Dealing with the young girls fears as well as her own terrified her.

"I'm fighting so very hard so that doesn't happen, Gracie. You're all I think about , I kept thinking about you and how I can't leave you without a mummy. You are my reason to keep fighting no matter what. I promise I'm trying." Connie held Grace tightly to her, trying desperately to stop her own tears as she comforted her daughter.

It was a few minutes before Sam spoke. "You've been going through all of this on your own?" Connie turned her head to him as he spoke, she could see emotion in his face. He had found himself getting emotional as he watched Connie admit she was fighting for her life. He admired Connie's bravery, he thought back to his own battle with cancer a decade before, he knew if he was in her position he would not have found the strength to explain to their child what he was going through.

"I told Ethan, and Charlie has been around a lot since he found out. But for the most part I was alone… my own doing, I shut everyone else out. " Connie looked back to her daughter, to the one person she had wanted to hold close through it all. Sam nodded slowly, moving himself over to where her and Grace were sat he lowered himself beside them. A hand placing itself gently on her shoulder.

"You don't have to be alone now though. Grace and I are here."