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We spent most of the day on Sunday exploring the surrounding countryside.

David dragged me on a seven-mile walk that, although it completely tired me out, did let us wander through some gorgeous landscape.

We spent a couple of hours on the beach before walking back to the hotel and having a lovely dinner.

We made love again in the four-poster bed, before taking another bath together.

When we returned home, late on Sunday evening, I was feeling more relaxed than I had in a long time.

There was a message from the German hospital waiting on the machine when we got in, telling us that Matt had come through his operation very well.

The nurse said she would call back on Monday evening.

We were waiting impatiently for her call on Monday.

David was restless; he had told Mr Watson that he would take the head of department job, and spent the entire evening wondering aloud if he’d done the right thing.

He annoyed me so much I finally told him to just shut up moaning and take back his acceptance of the promotion if it bothered him that much.

He looked like he was about to snap back at me, when the phone rang loudly.

I had snatched it off the cradle before David was even out of his seat.

However, it was a different nurse on the line this time, who only spoke broken English.

I handed the phone over to David, who switched easily to German, one of the three languages he spoke fluently.

I caught a few words, but most of the conversation was lost to me.

Finally, David hung up the phone and smiled at me.

“He’s okay?” I asked eagerly.

“Yeah. He came through the operation with flying colours. The preliminary scans show that they managed to remove almost all of the tumour. He’s had two major doses of chemotherapy, so he’s feeling a little… crap, to put it bluntly. But they’re optimistic.”

I sighed happily and leant into him for a hug.

“That’s good. Sorry I snapped at you before.”

“It’s okay.” David rubbed my back. “You’re worried about Matt. He’s booked on a flight back in three days.”

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