Timing

'Without chemo - 12 to 18 months,' he says. 'That will obviously be extended with the chemo. But you must double check with the oncologist.'
I feel like clutching his arm. This is good news in the scheme of things. I had pretended to go off to the loo, not being able to bear asking the question in front of Dad.
'About fourteen, fifteen years old that doctor, d'you reckon Juliette?' Dad had quipped afterwards when my brother arrived and we were relaying the news.
'Twelve maybe.' I'd replied.
He was young indeed, barely even shaving it seemed. He had drawn around the curtain and sat on the blue plastic chair opposite me, carefully choosing the words he had learnt at medical school to make Dad feel included, like we weren't discussing him alone.
When I'd arrived earlier, Dad said 'it's not great news - you'd better ask the doctor for the details,' shunting away his obligations.
The young doctor gulped, 'I'm sorry,' he says.
'It's OK, it's what I expected.' I check myself, perhaps Dad had't realised.
The tumour is large, probably been there for years undetected, symptomless. And now it's spread and there's nothing we can do, only slow its inevitable progress. I ask the doctor about care - 'he'll get what he needs' - and about work - 'most people choose not to work with this diagnosis. They want to make the most of the time that they've got.' He falters on those last few words as if he's made a false start in a race. I want to reassure him, tell him he's doing OK. The doctor looks at me, 'people get breathless, you know.' I nod.
'I want to get back into the fresh air,' says Dad, smoothing his eyebrows down as he speaks. The doctor tries out an understanding nod.
'We'll see,' I say.
After the doctor has left, I ask Dad how he feels.
'I've accepted it,' the open palm of his hand sweeps through the air. 'If I've got to go, I've got to go. I'd rather have a little bit longer, but there's nothing I can do about it.'
I gulp now, digging the half moon of my thumbnail hard into my fingertip.
'I'd like to make it to Christmas.'
'Of course you will.'
'I've got a lot of preparations to do.'
'It's OK, I'll help you.'
'Really?'
'Of course I will. Of course.'