One of the oddest things about being terminally ill is that you get a new job – host. Essentially, she is looking after them – telling Derek where to find another vase for the flowers, nodding through the strained banter, the mirthless gags, the bullshit about ‘when you’re back on your feet’ etc. One friend that she’s never much liked even weeps on her – cheers. If dying is a test of character, so is being that person’s friend. Mum and Carole get top scores. Some fail completely. Most of us muddle through.
