Instead of swiping snooze on my alarm with increasing despair, I woke immediately. Facing the wall, for once I wasn’t irritated by the tear in the woodchip that exposed a rainbow from wallpaper of times gone by. My mind wasn’t darkly drawn downwards, through the mattress springs, beyond the wooden slats, to the suitcase below filled with realities I couldn’t face. Once out of bed, I wasn’t crestfallen by the disarray of my room. Or the mould that clung to the tiles round the bath when I showered. I even washed my hair and shaved my pits.

I wore a silk blouse that had only ever had an outing for my cousin Margot’s wedding. Applied a lick of make-up. Nothing obvious. I didn’t want it to be noticeable to everyone, to Dale.

As I snuck out of my room, Dale exited his, feigning surprise at my being there, smiling as if the night before he hadn’t slammed his door without saying a word.

I went along with the charade and we left the house, chatting about needing milk and bin day. At the end of Lynton Road, when we were about to part ways, he said, ‘You look weird today,’ then ran for his bus.

On the hot, stifling Tube, my blouse now ruined by ink blots spreading under my arms, I dwelt on Dale’s words. My single atom of confidence melted, I rubbed at my cheeks and stripped the lipstick with the back of my hand.

By the time I’d reached the surgery, I looked more bedraggled than usual. And when Linda glanced up at me, bemused, I was unsure if it was because of my appearance or the fact I was on time. Something I hadn’t managed since my first day.

‘Are you feeling better today, Linda?’

‘Not really. I’m . . . I’m just very sad, to be honest. He was a great man.’

‘Yes . . . Yes, he was.’ I dropped my head.

The moment hung like smog until Linda broke the silence. ‘When you’ve settled, can you take these files into Dr Stevens for me, please? I find it quite distressing going in there.’

‘Of course. No problem. You know, I . . . I can do all Dr Stevens’s stuff if you want. It’s no trouble. You mustn’t upset yourself, Linda.’

She mouthed the words ‘Thank you’, then performed a succession of fast little nods before running into the back room. I suppose I was expected to follow her, comfort her, but I took the file and headed to your office.

After calling me in, I realized you were on the phone. ‘Look, I can’t talk about it now,’ you said to the caller. I sensed it was personal. A woman. You bit the end of your weighty silver pen. After placing the file on your desk, I went to leave, but you raised your hand to stop me.