The Various Haunts of Men by Susan Hill Page A

involvement of the lymph glands. The biopsy had highlighted a particularly aggressive type of cancer.
    Now, Karin had had her firstconsultation with the consultant oncologist, Jill Monk, whose report Cat had already seen.
    ‘You can’t begin to know how sorry I am.’
    ‘Yes I can. And look what you’ve done … got me X-rays and an appointment lightning fast and I know what a difference that can make.’
    Karin looked bright – too bright, Cat thought. ‘It’s early days,’ she said carefully, ‘it takes time for all the implications tosink in.’
    ‘Oh, it’s sunk, don’t you worry.’
    ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to patronise you.’
    ‘You’re not. People are meant to agonise … ask “Whyme?” But why not me, Cat? It’s random. After I saw Dr Monk, I got home, had a huge Scotch and howled my eyes out. But that’s that. So let’s talk about what’s next.’
    Cat glanced down at the oncologist’s letter. It did not make cheerful reading.
    ‘Surgery isthe immediate way forward, as she will have told you … in this instance, she won’t want to be too … conservative.’
    ‘Full mastectomy, including the glands, yes, she said.’
    ‘Then chemo, certainly, and radiography, possibly, depending on how she decides after the operation. There is a possibility that she might want to do a double mastectomy, you know that?’
    Karin was silent.
    ‘Bevham Generalis a centre of excellence for oncology and I wouldn’t recommend you go privately … though if you want an amenity bed, by all means pay for that. I would … If I’m feeling rough, I like to be by myself to do it.’
    I’m babbling, Cat thought. Karin was unnerving her. She sat without fidgeting, apparently quite relaxed, and for the most part she kept her eyes on Cat’s face. Her wild red hair was tiedback in a black velvet snood, to reveal her bony face – large nose, high cheekbones and forehead – it was an interesting, intelligent face, with the repose of a woman entirely comfortable in her own skin.
    ‘Cat, I have thought about it … well, as you may imagine, I haven’t done much else. I have thought very hard and very clearly and carefully. And I’ve talked to Mike. And now I’m telling you.I don’t want to have any of this. No, hang on, let me say it all. The only suggestion of Dr Monk’s I did consider seriously was the surgery. I know it’s radical, but oddly enough the idea of itis still acceptable … I want to keep the possibility in reserve. Chemo and radiotherapy I won’t go near.’
    ‘I’m not sure I understand you.’
    ‘I want to go down the other route … alternative, complementary,whatever you call it. The gentle way. I’m thinking of going to America to the Gerson Clinic. I’m absolutely sure that it’s a better way, Cat … physically, spiritually … everything tells me so. I won’t poison my body and destroy my immune system with toxins and I won’t be subjected to overdoses of radiation. I am quite sure about it, but you’re my doctor and of course I will listen to what youhave to say. I’m not a fool.’
    Cat got up and walked to the window. The car park was almost empty. It was still pouring with rain.
    ‘Did you say any of this to Jill Monk?’
    ‘No. I hadn’t thought it through then. Besides, I don’t think she’d have been sympathetic.’
    ‘And you think I am?’
    ‘Cat, whatever the outcome of this, it is my body, my illness, my decision, and I live with it. Or not, I suppose.But whatever, it isn’t yours so don’t worry.’
    ‘Of course I bloody worry … all my training and knowledge and experience and instinct tell me to worry because you are wrong. Just plain wrong.’
    ‘Are you washing your hands of me?’
    ‘Look, Karin, you are my patient and it is my job to give you my professional advice and counsel. It’s also my job to support you in any medical decisions you make because,ultimately, those decisions always are the patient’s. And you are a good friend. And the more