SITTING in the medical centre waiting room, Dennis watched as a coughing child stacked blocks. Had the receptionist a quaver in her voice when she’d set up the appointment? ‘A mild infection at worst,’ his wife, Rosie, had said dismissively. Mild? A beautiful woman in all other ways, Rosie had never sympathised during his illnesses, automatically querying the severity of his symptoms. This time, as usual, he’d felt awful—but, again, nothing but eye-rolls from her. Minutes later the doctor addressed him. ‘Dennis, I’m afraid I have very bad news…’ His first thought was how much he’d enjoy telling Rosie.