8 I’m sitting in Mum’s living-room armchair, staring at a dying man. This is the last place I want to spend my Saturday afternoon. But I’m here to support Mum. She’s been through hell these last few years, and now it looks like Dad’s time is almost up. I’ve tried to feel pity for him, for the pain he’s going through—but it’s not as easy as it sounds. The only person who’ll miss him is Mum, and I’m terrified that once he’s gone, she’ll start to lose interest in living. Before he got sick, she needed his addiction to give her life purpose. She’s a problem solver; and Dad getting lung cancer was just another one to fix. But now that’s over. He’ll be dead in months, and there are no maybes this time. Once the chemo has stopped, that’s it. No more Dad. I will cry at the funeral; I’m certain o

