The following day when Louise had gone out I went to see Elgin. He seemed to be expecting me. We went into his study. He had a new game on his computer screen. This one was called LABORATORY. A good scientist (played by the operator) and a mad scientist (played by the computer) fight it out to create the world’s first transgenic tomato. Implanted with human genes the tomato will make itself into a sandwich, sauce or pizza topping with up to three additional ingredients. But is it ethical?

‘Like a game?’ he said.

‘I’ve come about Louise.’

He had her test results spread out on a table. The prognosis was about 100 months. He pointed out to me that whilst it was easy for Louise to be careless about her condition as long as she felt fit and well, that would change when she began to lose her strength.

‘But why treat her as an invalid before she is an invalid?’

‘If we treat her now there is a chance that the disease might be halted. Who knows?’ He shrugged and smiled and jangled a few keys on his terminal. The tomato leered.

‘Don’t you know?’

‘Cancer is an unpredictable condition. It is the body turning upon itself. We don’t understand that yet. We know what happens but not why it happens or how to stop it.’

‘Then you have nothing to offer Louise.’

‘Except her life.’

‘She won’t come back to you.’

‘Aren’t you both a bit old for the romantic dream?’

‘I love Louise.’

‘Then save her.’

Elgin sat down at his screen. He considered our interview to be over. ‘The trouble is’, he said, ‘that if I choose the wrong gene I shall get squirted with tomato sauce. You do see my problem.’

Dear Louise,

I love you more than life itself. I have not known a happier time than with you. I did not know this much happiness was possible. Can love have texture? It is palpable to me, the feeling between us, I weigh it in my hands the way I weigh your head in my hands. I hold on to love as a climber does a rope. I knew our path would be steep but I did not foresee the sheer rock face we have come to. We could ascend it, I know that, but it would be you who took the strain.

I’m going away tonight, I don’t know where, all I know is I won’t come back. You don’t have to leave the flat; I have made arrangements there. You are safe in my home but not in my arms. If I stay it will be you who goes, in pain, without help. Our love was not meant to cost you your life. I can’t bear that. If it could be my life I would gladly give it. You came to me in the clothes you stood up in, that was enough. No more Louise. No more giving. You have given me everything already.