In her neat little private room at the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital I say I’ve brought figs because she’s a fancy West End sort. When I return a few days later, her partner has moved into the room. Four days later, shortly after 6am, I get the message informing me that she’s died. We all know he’s dying but we don’t mention it. To sit with a friend while the light around them is dying is to feel as close to another person as it is possible to feel.

Source: Daily Mail February 17, 2026 21:09 UTC