‘Please, Rasheda.’

She sags again, and then he feels bad. He’d thought her tougher than this. Tonight he sees she actually cares, only it’s too late.

‘I’ve only got the one anyway.’

Geoff hears birds, the engine thrum of the bendy bus.

‘What?’

She stares into his eyes, not letting go.

‘Obviously they know my circumstances. Some of the guys needed more, what could I say? You’re lucky they gave me this.’ Rasheda holds an orange envelope, tilting it at him. ‘Good thing too. Considering.’

‘I’m not sleeping with her.’

‘That’s not my business,’ she says, looking at his unmade bed, the scattered books, papers and clothes, the undrawn curtains. ‘You can do what you like. Can’t you?’

The muscles of her jaw protrude. She looks at the window.

‘This is just silly.’

‘D’you think?’

Dark eyes flash.

‘Don’t you?’

She stares him down. He drops his gaze, grits his teeth.

‘Will I see you in London?’

Geoff knows the answer, yet she has grace enough to smile. Rasheda gives him the envelope.

‘Probably not,’ she says.

He gathers the important things in a rucksack. Laptop, novel, notepad. He tucks the flimsy pass into an old Oyster wallet, pockets both and puts the orange envelope face-up on the coffee table with Nuria’s name printed in black felt tip. He hasn’t told her much. Just that the flat’s hers if she wants it, that he had to leave immediately, where the folder is with information about the boiler and all other household appliances. He hasn’t said he’s sorry. He wants to, only he doesn’t know how to word it, everything he writes feels wrong. Geoff feels his hands tremble and tightens them into fists. He puts his house keys on top of the envelope, slipping out before Nuria wakes to find him standing over her, the difference between them alive and naked in his eyes.

UTOMA

Today is my one hundred and forty-six thousandth dawn. As always, it’s spectacular. I go into the garden, my daily ritual. There’s a hum of escaping insects, the soft breath of wind, the expanse of green and silent land. To the south, the hazy orb of Utoma City. To the east, a dark undulation of hills merges into a marble-blue sky fissured with growing light. I pause to watch this tender seepage, the rise of our sol. I’m amazed.