‘Well,’ said Dr Hammond, speaking slowly and clearly, knowing that the information was itself impairing. ‘I’m afraid the news is not good. Your scan indicates that you have a tumour in the left hemisphere of your brain that is affecting the right side of your body. The spasms you’ve been having are what we call “focal motor seizures”. I know you must be in shock right now and I want to make sure that you’re taking in what I’m telling you.’

‘Yes,’ said Lucy, repeating verbatim what she had just been told. ‘Is it cancerous?’

‘Yes. I believe this is a low-grade tumour, so after a biopsy, we’ll discuss whether to follow up with chemotherapy and radiation.’

‘Can it be operated on?’ asked Olivia, seeing that Lucy was having trouble absorbing so much devastating news.

‘That’s for Mr McEwan to decide,’ he said. ‘Would you like me to turn the heating on? I can see that you’re shivering.’

‘No thanks,’ said Lucy and then, after a silence, ‘Does this mean I’m going to die young?’

‘It might shorten your life, yes.’

‘Holy shit,’ said Lucy.

And that’s when she had asked for the Xanax.

Olivia handed the water to Lucy in a frail plastic cup that dented at the slightest touch.

‘Why me?’ said Lucy, swallowing two Keppra and a Xanax. ‘Why not me? Both questions make as little sense as each other. Somebody has to get a brain tumour, or they wouldn’t exist. It’s just the intimacy of the shock.’

Olivia watched Lucy build a cerebral defence against her brain tumour, as if it were a puzzle that could be solved.

‘It’s like being raped while you’re in a coma and only finding out when you see the CCTV footage,’ she went on. ‘It’s in my brain, but I never knew about it. Is it my brain that now knows? Don’t get me wrong, even though I’m questioning the relationship between my brain and my mind, I’m not filing for a divorce.’

Dr Hammond came back into the room with a brief, serious smile.

‘I’ve spoken with Mr McEwan and he can squeeze you in as soon as he gets through his current consultation. Is there anything else you want to know from me before you see him?’

‘If you got this diagnosis,’ said Lucy, ‘and you had unlimited resources, what would you do?’

‘I would have any surgery done here. Mr McEwan is really the top in his field. I would let him operate on me, or any of my family, without hesitation.’

‘Okay, thanks,’ said Lucy, getting up and shaking Dr Hammond’s hand.