Spring 2015
home by then of course, but we would visit for a few hours a day, which always seemed to raise his
spirits. And when we left him, Renee would tell me about his life - the life I neglected to take part
in. She wasn't bitter about it. He had managed perfectly well without a brother, she said, and clearly
I had too. The important thing now was to make what time Richard had left as happy as possible.
And we did. I wasn't there when he died - I had returned home two days before and was due to
visit again a week later. But we said our goodbyes. I'm no believer in the supernatural, but I don't
doubt that some people know when their time is up. Richard certainly seemed to know. As I left his
bedside for the last time he took my hand, gave it a weak squeeze, and thanked me. "Whatever for?"
I asked. "For looking afte ȁ