But it was not him: it was Clarissa who became disillusioned. She started an open criticism of the ethics, the morality of his work, the social irresponsibility of it all, and spent time returning to see her parents in Liverpool, eventually leaving her job as an in-house counsellor and working as a freelance to individual private patients. But she found the work demoralising; her patients would fall off the wagon and return to their habit, or transfer to another addiction, sometimes after years of being clean.

Ever was unaware initially that she had made contact with Adam again, the violinist, although she claimed when she went to see him, she was always open about it, that it was merely a friendship; they had history and they enjoyed the discussions of the past and of their failed dreams and ambitions: he felt there was something more. This and his work led to his major collapse – the Big One – when he ended up being institutionalised. By this point his relationship with Clarissa had moments of punishing cruelty. He witnessed in her a temper and an anger that he had never been aware of before.

Passion – yes, and fury – yes: but never at him.

Never truly, horribly because of him, because of situations, yes, but he always felt not as a result of what he had done. He had always been a part of the wholeness of them both; but when he was in the hospital being pumped with medication he felt it probably was the end of his life, his marriage, of everything. He understood it was his mental state that must have caused an enormous disappointment for Clarissa; a tragedy in her mind that she was married to someone, who – she had enough knowledge of the brain to know – would never be the same person again, never be who he was for her when they met: never again. The medication had taken away his desire for her, he supposed she felt unloved – though she wasn’t, and unwanted – which she wasn’t.

But for a woman, well anyone really, who was losing faith in the world, not to be desired is an event of profound proportion. He somehow did not blame her for what she had done. But he knew that she blamed herself and this is what had caused the breakdown in her ability to behave with any love and compassion; everywhere she turned she was reminded of the betrayal of her life, of her guilt, that had resulted in the creation of another life.

A boy.

Jacob.

And on that Wednesday evening, she could hold that in her system no longer.

Guilt, the two of them destroying their lives through guilt.

*

Ever stood wishing he had another cigarette.