‘Neither am I, I’ve had about four grams of coke.’

‘Oh, God, that’s awful. You haven’t been taking heroin as well, have you?’

‘No, no, no. I’ve given that up. Just a few tranquillizers.’

‘Well, that’s something, but why the coke? Think of your poor nose. You can’t let it just drop off.’

‘My nose is going to be fine. I just felt so depressed.’

‘Poor baby, I’m sure you did. Your father dying is the worst thing that could have happened to you. You never got a chance to work things out.’

‘We never would have.’

‘That’s what all sons feel.’

‘Mmm . . .’

‘I don’t like to think of you there alone. Are you seeing anybody nice today, or just morticians?’

‘Are you implying that morticians can’t be nice?’ asked Patrick lugubriously.

‘Lord, no, I think they do a wonderful job.’

‘I don’t really know. I have to collect the ashes, otherwise I’m as free as the wind. I wish you were here.’

‘So do I, but I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?’

‘Absolutely. I’ll come round straight from the airport.’ Patrick lit a cigarette. ‘I’ve been thinking all night,’ he continued rapidly, ‘ – if you can call that thinking – about whether ideas come from the continual need to talk, relieved occasionally by the paralysing presence of other people, or if we simply realize in speech what we’ve already thought.’ He hoped this was the kind of question that would distract Kay from the exact details of his return.

‘That shouldn’t have kept you up,’ she laughed. ‘I’ll tell you the answer tomorrow night. What time do you get in?’

‘Around ten,’ said Patrick, adding a few hours to the arrival time.

‘So I’ll see you about eleven?’

‘Perfect.’

‘Bye, baby. Lots of love.’

‘You too. Bye now.’

Patrick put down the phone and made himself another little fix of coke to keep him going. The last fix was still too recent and he had to lie on the bed for a while, sweating, before he could make the next call.

‘Hello? Debbie?’

‘Darling. I didn’t dare call you in case you were asleep.’

‘That hasn’t been my problem.’

‘Well, I’m sorry, I didn’t know that.’

‘I’m not accusing you of anything. There’s no need to be so defensive.’

‘I’m not being defensive,’ laughed Debbie. ‘I was just worried about you. This is ridiculous. I only meant that I’ve been worried all night about how you were.’

‘Ridiculous, I suppose.’

‘Oh, please don’t let’s argue. I wasn’t saying you were ridiculous. I meant that arguing is ridiculous.’

‘Well, I was arguing, and if arguing is ridiculous then I was being ridiculous. My case rests.’

‘What case? You always think I’m attacking you. We’re not in a courtroom. I’m not your opponent or your enemy.’