“No, Dad. Please, no!”
Mark’s shouting and thrashing about woke me instantly. I’d never seen anyone have a nightmare before, so I was acting on instinct. I turned on the bedside lamp at my side and reached for Mark. We had somehow separated in the night.
“Mark, Mark, love. It’s Simon. You’re having a bad dream. It’s okay, you’re safe now.” I squeezed his shoulder. This seemed to rouse him. “It’s okay. Just a bad dream, sweetheart.”
“It was horrible.”
“Did you dream about your dad?” I asked, pulling the still shaking young man into my arms.
He nodded.
“I don’t know how you managed to stay with him.” I rubbed his back and continued to make soothing noises.
“When Mum was dying she asked me to look after Dad once she’d gone. She knew we didn’t really get on, but she thought we’d pull
