She only realized she had spoken aloud when a man, also leaning over the parapet, shifted his feet. She felt fury. What business had he here, how dare he invade her privacy?

Would he go away? He must. There was nothing to keep him here unless, she thought with a sinking heart, he has a tryst. He is meeting his girl. Curse him, she thought. Curse him and his girl. She looked at him sidelong, not turning her head. He looked dreadfully tired. He couldn’t be meeting a girl as tired as that. He leant on his elbows, his face in his hands, obviously exhausted. A car passed, driving slowly across the bridge, heading away to the country beyond the town. The man did not move or look up. Perhaps he was drunk. Matilda risked a quick glance. Tall but slumped with depression.

Oh God! Matilda thought to herself, he’s going to throw himself over! The selfish brute, he bloody well mustn’t. I shall just stay until he goes. She willed him to move, to leave, to push off.

A boy and girl came walking so closely entwined they nearly tripped each other up. They stopped in the middle of the road to kiss, their bodies clenched. Matilda, exasperated, willed them to move on but they continued kissing.

The man paid no attention, leaning lost in thought on the parapet.

Perhaps he’s drugged, Matilda thought.

A police car came crawling slowly. The driver gave a little toot. The boy and girl looked up, faces dazed with love.

‘Oh piss off,’ called the girl, moving to one side out of the boy’s arms. ‘Piss off,’ she yelled.

The constable beside the driver wound down his window. ‘Now then Brenda, now then –’

‘Piss off.’

‘I’ll tell your dad,’ called the constable. The driver laughed.

The boy lifted two fingers. ‘Come on,’ he said to the girl. ‘Bloody fuzz.’

‘Fucking public here. Come on then, Eddy.’ The girl retwined herself round the boy. They moved awkwardly away.

Matilda’s heart beat in heavy thumps. She moved along the parapet closer to the man. Two yards from him she said in a low voice, apologetic:

‘I’m dreadfully sorry but I saw your face in the lights of the police car.’

‘Yes?’

‘They’ll be coming back.’

‘I daresay they will.’

‘Well, I recognized you –’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you going to throw yourself over?’

‘It had occurred to me.’

‘Well, are you or aren’t you?’

‘I haven’t made up my mind.’

‘Oh.’

‘I was undecided.’

‘Well, I wasn’t. I’m just waiting for the tide to be right. You are rather –’

‘De trop?’

‘Yes.’

The Matricide laughed, leaning against the parapet. ‘So sorry.’ He choked with laughter. ‘So sorry to be in your way. I’ll move if you like.’

‘Put your arm round me. The police car’s coming back. Quick.’ The Matricide put his arm round her shoulders.