He smiles benevolently as though he’s Father Christmas giving us a present.
‘Wow!’
I try to imagine myself aged 102. I never thought I’d live that long. I never thought about life expectancy, full stop. I’ve just been going with the flow.
‘That’s something!’ Dan’s face has brightened. ‘A hundred years old!’
‘I’ll be a hundred and two,’ I counter with a laugh. ‘Get me with my super-long life!’
‘How long did you say you’ve been married?’ says Dr Bamford. ‘Seven years?’
‘That’s right.’ I beam at him. ‘Together for ten.’
‘Well, just think what good news this is.’ Dr Bamford twinkles in delight. ‘You should have another sixty-eight more wonderful years of marriage!’
Wh—
What?
My smile kind of freezes. The air seems to have gone blurry. I’m not sure I can breathe properly.
Sixty-eight?
Did he just say …
Sixty-eight more years of marriage? To Dan?
I mean, I love Dan and everything, but …
Sixty-eight more years?
‘I hope you’ve got plenty of crossword puzzles to keep you going!’ The doctor chortles merrily. ‘You might want to save up some of your conversations. Although there’s always the TV!’ Clearly he thinks this is hilarious. ‘There are always box sets!’
I smile weakly back and glance at Dan to see if he’s appreciating the joke. But he seems in a trance. He’s dropped his empty plastic water glass on the floor without even noticing. His face is ashen.
‘Dan.’ I nudge his foot. ‘Dan!’
‘Right!’ He comes to, and gives me a rictus smile.
‘Isn’t that great news?’ I manage. ‘Sixty-eight more years together! That’s just … I mean … Lucky us!’
‘Absolutely,’ says Dan in a strangled, desperate voice. ‘Sixty-eight years. Lucky … us.’
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