I lit my hideous elephant-lamp and sat on the edge of the bed with Florence’s blue envelope in my hands, which was the farewell letter she had received from James and which I had not yet read.

It was undated, and like the notes in the Agenda I copied it out in long-hand that day, aware that Florence had asked for them back. It began without any greeting.

I am going away. This will perhaps not surprise you, it may even give you some relief. The taut line which has stretched between us during the last few years has stretched too far and now has finally snapped. Or perhaps only I have snapped? I have reached the breaking-point, men are not as strong as women, I know, and you are braver than I. But I can no longer work, as you are aware. I no longer see the colours, the light, the forms, or feel the inspiration. They have gone, and I am barren. I shall go away now alone. To think, to try and cleanse my mind of the miseries and sadness which have dulled my sensibilities. Don’t inform the police, they won’t find me, and it would be foolish to plaster my disappearance over the local paper. Let it rest, let me rest. Go away from the house, go back to your own house. Begin a new life if you possibly can.

We are not married in law, only in our own, foolish, childish minds.

The money from Aronovich is all for you and my ‘punishment’. The rent has been paid, as you are aware, to your mother for three more years. That has practically cleared me out at the bank, there is almost nothing left now, but I shall not need much. If anything at all.

If, by miracle, I should find a method of survival, should clear my head of the agonies and despairs which crowd about it like evil bats, I’ll contact you before the last day of March. The 31st exactly. If you do not hear from me by that time, send off the enclosed package (it is the front-door key – there is your spare one presently in your basket, I imagine) to my brother William, the address is written in block capitals on the packet. All you need to do is fix a stamp on it and there is nothing to declare to the Customs. Remember, if I am not back, if I have not contacted you, by noon at the latest on the 31st, mail it off and go away. I do not care much for William, nor he for me, but he is the last remaining member of my family.