Late last week, I skyped with an old, dear friend, Raj Thamotheram, and hung up with a lump in my throat. Several months ago, he wrote:
Early on Wednesday 9 November we learnt that Donald Trump would be president of the US, and two days later I heard I may have a cancer. Since then, it has been confirmed that the cancer is large, worrying and cannot be magically removed. Outwardly, I look well, but inside, this malignant parasite has been growing – silently – for some years.