Silver

Chapter 9 - then

I was resting in bed, when I heard the front door slam. My father appeared in my doorway.

'You're home!' I said, sitting up in bed.

'I came home straight away when I heard about your op.'

'But the conference ... have you given your talk yet?'

'Who cares about the talk.' Dad sat next to me on the bed and gave me a cuddle. His breathe smelt like sweet coffee, familiar and comforting. 'How was the operation?'

'It was amazing,' I said, 'I didn't even know they were putting me to sleep. And then I woke up and all these things have been done to me, by all these different people, but I didn't remember a thing.'

He smiled. I knew that whatever I said, he got me.

'My test results are fine,' I said.

'I knew they would be.'

'How was the conference?'

'It was the same old. The hotel was terrible. More money than taste. You would have hated it. How can they put design and architecture academics from around the world in a place like that? It set the tone for the whole conference: bad style and a lack of atmosphere.'

'Sounds awful.'

'What did you have for lunch?'

'Cheese on toast,' I answered.

'Come on, I'll make you something special,' he said, throwing back my bed cover and helping me out of bed.

He lit the fire in the sunken 'round room', a real treat as it's only lit on special occasions, as firewood is a rarity. He brought me my bed cover and pillows, so that I could lie down on the couch and watch television while he made me a Spanish omelette with fetta, sundried tomatoes, potato and bacon.