Leonard just wanted things to return to normal. He hadn’t changed, so why should their life be turned upside down? If the wife of a wealthy man were suddenly to discover that her husband’s money was ill-gotten, would it make her appreciate their lifestyle any the less? Sylvie had been happy with him; theirs had been a happy marriage; without his extramarital wanderings he would not have been the easy, congenial husband she had long loved. According to this private logic, they should simply move on from the ructions and return to how they had always been. In reality, of course, he knew this to be pure fantasy.

Every day, he left for work at his usual time, but only spent a few hours at the office. If it was hot, he went to the gallery or the State Library, otherwise he walked. While he paced the streets and gardens his troubles were muted. He heard the birds, he felt the breeze, he saw the trees, he admired the flowers, and he recited poetry under his breath, half-remembered lines of old favourites. The Prelude returned to him, the first time in years. He recognised the joy of the poem, and the exuberance of the young man; but in an odd and painful way, the poem and its young man felt separate from him, connected as if by a thread, but not actually part of him. Was this to be his life from now on, he wondered. To be separated from all that had once nurtured him? Poetry? Work? His wife?

His walks began to sour, and he started to spend more time at the office. At the end of January, when Winston returned from Hong Kong, Leonard was again working his usual long days.

‘I’m so happy you’re back.’ Leonard had to restrain himself from leaping across the desk and hugging him. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

Winston had arrived home the previous night, too late even for a phone call. They hadn’t seen each other since Christmas.

‘It feels like you’ve been gone for months,’ Leonard said, moving around to the front of the desk. He could feel the pleasure stamped on his face — a sharp contrast to Winston’s serious expression. ‘Aren’t you happy to be back?’ And when there was no answer: ‘Winston, is there something wrong?’

The two men were standing in reach of each other. Winston took a step backwards. He shook his head slowly. ‘I’m not staying, Leo. I’m moving back home.’

‘But home is here.’

‘I don’t feel safe here. I’m returning to Hong Kong.’ He paused before adding, ‘Permanently.’

‘But you can’t just leave.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll put everything in order for my replacement.’

‘I don’t mean the business. What about us?’ Leonard could not believe this was happening, not after ten years, not with his life already in pieces.