I should be in Antigua with my parents right now, all of us enjoying our first holiday alone together in a very long time.
But I’m not in Antigua with my Dad. I’m on a train, on the end of the phone, waiting to hear that he’s come out of surgery after 15 days in hospital. It’s not like being on holiday at all, this waiting and hoping that everything is all right. It’s a bit shit, really. Especially for Dad.
