There was a pause from the other end.

‘Do you want to be right, or do you want to be happy?’

I laughed. It was a piece of advice we had first heard given to the groom at the wedding of one of Marina’s work colleagues, as the panacea for a successful marriage—a line that Marina and I had often repeated to each other since.

‘Happy,’ I said, still smiling.

‘Right then,’ she said.

It had been a good moment—a very good moment.

‘How’s your father?’

‘Not much change. But he’s a fighter, that’s for sure. He even sat up in bed and ate something yesterday, first time in two days. I thought he’d completely given up on life but it seems he hasn’t.’

‘How will your mum cope with him when you come home on Friday?’ I asked, very much hoping that she wasn’t about to change her plans.

‘I’ve finally got the local health service here to provide a home carer to come in twice a day. It’s only fair. After all, Mamma and Pa still have to pay their health insurance. They’ll be fine for a few days without me.’

The Dutch health system had always been a bit of an enigma to me, with its strange combination of state funding and private insurance premiums paying for exclusive, privately run hospitals, but the population seemed happy with the result, with much shorter waiting times than is usual under the fully state-managed vast monolithic system of the NHS here in the UK.

‘Is Elmo still there?’ I asked.

‘He leaves tomorrow morning. He’s said his goodbyes.’

‘It must be very hard for him being so far away.’

‘It’s hard also for Mamma and Pa. Both their children live abroad.’

‘At least you’re closer than New York.’

‘Maybe, but it still takes the best part of a day to get here. It’s not as if I’m just down the road if Mamma needs me.’

She was suddenly sounding very morose.

I, meanwhile, thought it was time to change the direction of this call.

‘Let me know which flight you and Sassy will be on,’ I said. ‘I’ll meet you at the airport.’

‘Okay. That would be nice. Thank you.’

There was a moment of silence between us as if neither of us knew what to say next.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ I said finally.

‘So have I,’ she replied.

‘Okay. You go first,’ I said, desperately dreading what she might say.

‘Things have got to be different in the future,’ she said. ‘I can’t really put my finger on why, but I haven’t been very happy these last six months or so, in fact I’ve been downright miserable.’

‘Is it your job?’