I took Liv down the stairs, out of the front door and down the path. How about going out of the gate and taking a few steps down the street? She looked fearfully at me, then nodded as if agreeing to do something that took great courage. Perhaps it did. There was very little difference between the texture and surface of the path and that of the pavement, both being of Portland stone, but Liv behaved like someone attempting to step from firm ground onto quicksand. I had a moment’s anxiety when the front door of 19 opened and Selina came out, not because I was afraid to see her but on Liv’s account, in case she mistook her for Claudia or some other avenging fury. But Liv seemed untroubled, concentrating now on taking a second step. Selina was carrying a big suitcase in each hand. She put them down on the path, went back and returned with two even larger cases. A taxi drew up. Apart from a little frisson passing through her neck and shoulders, Liv seemed unfazed. She was proceeding along the pavement like an amputee learning to use artificial legs.

Selina beckoned rather imperiously to the taxi driver. Taking his time about it, he got out of his cab and strolled up the path. Liv took him in her stride too, her eyes just flicking over him. Making sure the driver knew what was expected of him, Selina watched him pick up, with much panting, two of the cases. She came over to us. The complete solipsist, she showed no surprise at seeing me there, nor at seeing me the escort of someone apparently disabled, but cried out, “I’m going, darling. I’m off to fresh woods and pastures new.”

I said goodbye to her and Liv did, though as far as I knew they had never before set eyes on each other. The taxi departed for Dolphin Square. At the gate of 17, Liv and I turned around and came back again. I was pleased with her and said so. She nodded complacently as if this was only her due. I could see she had taken a huge turn for the better, something largely brought about by Wim’s attentions, it seemed. We no longer had qualms about leaving her alone. Wim would come to her and Jonny wouldn’t. That was how we saw it—but how can I say “we” like that when it was becoming impossible to use that pronoun, implying as it does a couple, a union, a closeness? I saw it like that and I believe Silver did too, that’s all I can say. Yet we were still together and still united in our plan to rescue that imprisoned trio. But Silver went on his own to find Jonny, back to Holloway and the little gray house with a disproportionately large and high flight of steps reaching up to its front door.