Ralph’s words about giving me money are crashing around in my sensitive head. I am a man considered so useless that you could give me a truckload of cash, and I wouldn’t have the wit or wisdom to do anything with it. James would not have expected me to be a disaster. He might have wanted me to be sad, but not this hopeless. A gormless, gutless pisshead. And now self-pitying.

But I feel a sudden flush of relief, because someone did give me money, and I went to the races with it. I did something with it. They are all wrong about me. I am a doer. See me vacuum the house?

But where is the money now? Pretty much where Ralph predicted it would be. And whose money is it? Elaine’s? Ben’s? Buzzcut’s? Mine?

And I remember something Tito said to me after one of our nights at the pub — the words Elaine reminded me of. We were in the car coming home, and the beer was making us talk more frankly than we normally would, which is kind of the point of beer. He looked at me and said, ‘You’re a safe guy, aren’t you?’ I thought ‘safe guy’ was some sort of city expression for ‘good bloke’, so I ignored it and talked about something else. Now I’m wondering if there was a different meaning.

When the floors and the furniture are cleaned, and the vacuum cleaner is more than full, I feel a sense of achievement. The sink and the dishes are still a couple of hours’ worth of work waiting for me, but one step at a time is enough. Outside, the autumn sun is making itself popular, and I think that perhaps I should try harder. I take a beer from the fridge, open it, and glug a few mouthfuls down. It tastes and feels terrific.

The phone is ringing. I’m guessing it’s Marko, because he hasn’t rung for a while, and he has tried to make it a habit. I know he will keep calling until I answer. Marko rang me every second day after James’s accident, and visited me on the in-between days, whether I wanted him there or not. He kept it up for a long time, but I guess I broke him. He thought I would get over it after a while, or begin to recover at least. He was probably hurt by the fact that I haven’t, and that I don’t want to hang with him or come to parties or the pub, or even just chat. What is a friend supposed to do?