I cleaned up the mess and went inside, dirty, sweating. Ian was watching me. I wondered how much he’d witnessed.

‘Is it gone?’ he said.

I glanced out the window. ‘Looks that way.’

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Good riddance.’

It was soon after this that I had to call Ian’s doctor.

Ian had been in the ensuite shower. I’d been at the kitchen sink, using a fingernail to scrape the tines of a fork. I heard one of the customary thuds, and then another thud. Much louder, much heavier, and accompanied by a sound closer to a scream than a groan. I gripped the fork and didn’t move.

After a minute, his plaintive voice floated down the hallway. ‘Susie?’

I turned, but didn’t answer.

‘Susie?’ Louder this time, more desperate.

I walked as gently as I could to the bedroom, letting the carpet absorb the sound. I pressed my ear to the door. At first I heard only the running water, but then I made out other sounds: little huffs of breath, something that could have been a sob.

I knocked. I called, ‘Ian? Are you all right in there?’

The door was unlocked. I went in. He was curled over in the shower recess, beyond shame. I didn’t intend to look at his genitals, but found myself glancing there anyway. All I saw was something pink receding into its thick nest of grey hair. I opened the glass door, turned off the taps, cast a towel over his body, and helped Ian to his feet.

But before I did any of those things, I slid my phone from my pocket and took a photograph. Ian’s eyes were closed. He was too distracted by his agony to notice.

‘Come on,’ I said once he was standing. I wrapped the towel around his shoulders the way you might wrap a child. He leaned against me, shivering. ‘Come on. You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.’

‘I knew this would happen,’ the doctor said when I called. ‘Stubborn old prick. Give me half an hour.’

After I hung up I went to the sofa where Ian was lying and crouched next to him. I couldn’t dress him on my own, so had arranged several towels around him as artfully as I could. Sweat had curled the hair at the nape of his neck. He was red in the face, clammy. His eyes were shut.

‘Call him back,’ he said. He was shaking. ‘Tell him I’m fine.’

I shook my head. ‘I wish I could.’

‘I’ll pay you,’ he said without opening his eyes. ‘How much? How much do you want?’

I put my hand on his forehead. ‘You’re burning up.’

He drew his knees further towards his chest. ‘You’re fired,’ he said.