She carried his gin and tonic to the mirror and uneasily they clinked fizzing glasses. The shock of the first cold mouthful in the chilly room was salutary, they surveyed each other with new gravity. — Of course I know it’s complicated, she conceded. — We don’t have to fight. But it’s difficult for me if you come here. I’d rather you kept away.

It was important for her to say this. And yet whenever Alex announced he was turning up she was excited and roused as if she waited for a lover, a terrible hurtful lover; then while he was in the house she dreaded his leaving as if it would extinguish her. It was easier though, surely, to live without this agitation. Also, his presence forced her to imagine Lydia waiting for him in Garret’s Lane, replete with possession of him. Christine said firmly that this wasn’t his home any longer. She was well aware, though she didn’t mention it, that his name was still on the deeds along with hers, and on the joint mortgage which they were fairly close to paying off. He was still paying the mortgage every month out of his salary, and had given up his place in Gospel Oak because he couldn’t afford it, moved in with Lydia. But Alex would never bring up these material considerations to use against her. He didn’t even mention money, and she could count on his being generous. His outward behaviour towards her was unfailingly gallant and considerate.

Alex only saw Christine’s finished calm; her struggle didn’t appear on the surface. He felt that she shut him out, with finality. — How is your work going? he asked, as if he were jealous of it.

She lied, said things were going well and that it was good to be busy again. In fact the door of her studio was still locked. She was lying about this to everyone, she couldn’t speak out loud about the prohibition she still felt within herself, against going back to her art. Her refusal had become a shaming vanity she preferred to dissemble: it wasn’t as if she were honouring Zachary’s memory or anything so sweet. The fear was paralysing; from day to day she postponed confronting it, and sometimes thought that she might never touch her work again. Only then, what would she do with the rest of her life? — And how’s school? she asked Alex cheerfully.