‘It went as well we could hope,’ I said, in a formal and matter-of-fact voice, playing the part of a detached and brilliant brain surgeon. But then I could not help but reach out to her, to put my hands on her shoulders, and as she put her hands on mine and we looked into each other’s eyes, and I saw her tears and had to struggle for a moment to control my own, I allowed myself a brief moment of celebration. ‘I think everything’s going to be all right,’ I said.
