Chapters (70)
- COVER PAGE
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- DEDICATION
- PROLOGUE
- PART I BIRTH
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- PART II LIFE
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- PART III DEATH
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
‘A friend of mine and I need some help on a research paper,’ he says, gently guiding my hand away from dangerous territory as I move to the next section of tumour. ‘You should think about it.’
He takes the diathermy from me, to my intense relief.
‘Sure,’ I say, flattered. ‘I’d love to.’
‘If you do a decent job, you might be able to help present it at a conference in Sweden later in the year.’
I think back to Nicole from admin’s tale about her European lover, and feel my eyebrows raise slightly.
‘My friend Wolfgang is German, but he’s been on sabbatical doing research at a university hospital in Sweden, where there’s a centre of neurosurgical research. Wolfgang has published a lot on novel immunotherapy techniques for recurrent GBM. Him and another friend of mine, a Swede—Tomas—have been working on this paper for months. I won’t be able to make it to the conference in Sweden where they are now unfortunately, but there’s another one in Fiji towards the end of the year so we’ll be able to catch up there.’ He sounds uncharacteristically animated. ‘You should come,’ he suggests.
I laugh. ‘Sure.’ I’m not exactly a big-time brain surgeon in hot demand for fun-sounding conferences on Pacific islands.
Still, my mind immediately leaves operating theatre nine and runs down a palm-fringed beach. I’m four kilograms lighter and wearing a white bikini that looks excellent against my dark tan. I imagine Dr Prince and I enjoying a chuckle about how much we both hate the Joker as we sip a crisp Australian white … or five.
‘Anyway,’ I say, moving away from him slightly, ‘the research paper sounds good. Should I email you about it?’
He tilts his head and looks over at me. I feel warmth flood my entire body; it’s either premature menopause or what Sicilians call the lightning bolt. I’m embarrassingly attracted to him. It’s becoming a bit hard to bear, if I’m completely honest with myself.
‘You should,’ he says encouragingly. ‘Actually, why don’t I email you the list today? If you get started on it now, there’s a very good chance you’ll be able to head over to Sweden and present it for the conference. If you really are keen on neurosurgery, now’s a good time to start thinking about this sort of thing—building the CV, you know.’
‘Yeah, I guess so,’ I say. ‘Thanks.’
‘Not a problem,’ he says. ‘It’ll be a good opportunity for you.’