Page 74 of Twisted Oath

‘I have no need of your apologies, Serafina. But I do need your help.’

Help?

‘Okay,’ I whispered into the seemingly fraught air that had found its way into the room.

‘As a medical student you will have taken the Hippocratic Oath?’

I heard the words leave his mouth and my jaw dropped in response, but nothing left my lips.

‘Yes,’ I eventually heard myself confirm.

‘Then I can tell you my secret, Serafina.’

‘Your secret?’ I questioned, feeling my eyebrows rise slightly.

‘Yes… I’m dying, Serafina.’ I watched as the large man allowed his body to sag momentarily with what I felt had to be relief.

I took a minute before replying and realised that, in all honesty, I had known he was very ill. Call it training. Call it instinct. Call it what you will. All I knew was, none of that was enough to stop sadness gripping me, as I carefully took in all the evidence that was presenting itself to me. His pallor was grey and there was no doubt that his circulation was poor. Where previously, he would have stood to greet family, or to assert his authority over those coming into his office, he had chosen to stay behind his desk, which was completely out of character.

How could no one have noticed?

I supposed seeing him often, his deterioration would have been harder to detect.

‘I might be in the profession, but mistakes can be made.’ I voiced the words, knowing deep down inside that there was no doubt as my gaze met his. Our pupils met and wordlessly I absorbed everything I needed to know.

‘There is no doubt.’ He shook his head gently at me to stop me going down an unnecessary route. ‘I have convened with the top oncology specialists in Italy.’

‘Cancer.’ I shook my head, knowing the answer already.

‘Cancer,’ he concurred.

‘I’m sorry,’ I commiserated.

‘Again, I have no need of your condolences.’

‘There are many new treatments on the market… chemo and radiotherapy can help.’

‘And they did for a while,’ he nodded at me. ‘They even lengthened my life expectancy. I’ve been battling this for the past two years. But it’s in the final stage and they’re no longer working. There is, I am told, nothing more they can do.’ I drew in a breath to speak but he held his hand up to stop me. ‘They explained to me a few weeks ago, that now was the time to put my house in order.’

I blinked a couple of times. How the hell you put a house like ours in order, I had no idea. Then I nodded resolutely at him as I watched him reach into his cigar box out of habit, or was it out of comfort at the familiarity of the action?

‘Lung cancer?’

‘No.’ A small laugh left him. ‘Surprisingly not… it’s bone cancer.’

‘Oh.’

Suddenly, feeling the need to take hold of the conversation and to steer it in a direction I was more comfortable with, I put my medical head on.

‘What’s the prognosis?’

‘I have maybe three to four months.’

‘Is the pain under control?’

‘Yes, Nipote.’ His smile warmed me as he bestowed on me a term of endearment meant for grandchildren and I smiled back in return.

‘What can I do?’

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