‘I’m seeing someone now . . . a man.’

He swung his glasses between his fingers, by their arm.

‘Well, tell me all about it.’ His tone changed. His face reddened. And he spoke like we actually were ‘chatting friends’.

‘Well, I don’t really know what to say. He’s a doctor . . . Oh, no one you know – don’t worry. I met him in my local pub.’

‘Well, Constance, I’m . . . I’m very pleased for you.’ I detected a glint that he wasn’t. ‘And you feel meeting someone has helped you during this difficult time?’

‘Yes . . . yes, it has. His mother died too, you see. We have a special connection. It’s a rare and wonderful thing.’

‘Well, then that makes me happy, Constance.’ And I think he meant it. That I’d been mistaken about the glint.

As soon as I stopped talking, I couldn’t bear what I’d said. I was embarrassed by myself. Wanted to go back in time. Rewrite history. Just like you did about what happened in the alleyway of the Wheatsheaf. I tried to change the subject.

‘She didn’t want to live anymore. That’s how I knew she was going to die.’

He was about to say something when a loud buzzing noise infiltrated the room. ‘That’s my next client, Constance . . . I’m so sorry. But I hope we can continue this?’

‘I . . . I’m not sure it’s necessary, Dr Franco. I’m feeling a lot better about things now.’

His forehead crinkled. ‘Well, that’s your decision to make, but I hope you change your mind. I feel like we’re just getting somewhere.’

‘OK . . . I’ll . . . I’ll think about it.’

But I knew the ‘somewhere we were getting to’ was the one place that I couldn’t go.

You were on …

You were on catch-up for the rest of the day and I barely got to see you. But this was a relief rather than a disappointment. Even when I followed you home after work, it was done out of habit rather than desire, and carried a resentment that you’d reduced me to this once again. In the end I hung back and had a fag, let you walk on ahead.

However, my mood was bolstered when I entered Edward’s and he greeted me in the hallway, a rattling tray between his hands. ‘I’ve made us tea and biscuits. Are you impressed?’

‘I am – look at you.’ Blood filled his cheeks and there was a perkiness I hadn’t seen since my first visit. Had he not been so breathless, I would have been delighted.

I took the tray from him and carried it to the lounge as he walked behind me. ‘What did the nurse say today?’