‘Is that why you’re cross with me? Because I didn’t text you sooner?’ Atticus grins. ‘Daniel, after your kiss, which left me more aroused than the first time I watched David Bowie performing as Ziggy Stardust, I spent most of the night trying and failing to get to sleep. I don’t think you’re ready to hear about what I was thinking, or wanting, for the rest of the night, so I’ll just say it took me a long, long time to get any sleep. I texted you as soon as I woke up.’

Dan flushes and stutters and carries on walking, but there is no pace to it now. He finally gets the courage to glance at Atticus, who is trying to look contrite and failing, and they share a smile that is an entire conversation, a whole new solar system. When they get to the taxi rank by the station, Atticus opens the door for him, and Dan gives the driver his address in a slightly breathless voice.

George

(George’s marvellous medicine)

GEORGE’S DOCTOR IS SURPRISED. He’d expected George to be too fat or too thin. He’d predicted his diabetes would be off the chart and was worried about convincing him it was time to start the injections.

The diabetes nurse also admitted she’d been dreading it. She’d given up speaking to George about his health years ago, when she realized all he was ever going to do was scowl at her pink hair. Ellen was always kind, though. She used to write down everything the nurse and doctor said, and bring baskets of jam and hand-knitted scarves at Christmas. She remembered their names and sent thank-you cards.

This is the first time George has seen the doctor since the day of his home visit and, despite the odds (the doctor is secretly a betting man), he is coping. Well, his body is anyway. He looks healthy. There is colour in his cheeks and his gut protrudes no more, or no less, than it always has. The braces he wears are clipped to clean, pressed trousers and his cardigan smells of laundry powder.

The doctor wonders if he has underestimated George. Somehow, he’s managing to get by. He’d been sure George would follow his wife into the grave very soon after, before the grass could even grow over the mounded earth.

When he’d visited George’s house, the sight of him in his chair had reminded the doctor of a bird who’d lost its mate and was lying on the floor of its cage, waiting to join it. As a doctor, he believes in medicine and facts, but the heart is the most vital organ, and in old people death can be contagious.