Christopher moved over to the chair where Matt was slumped. ‘You two are all I’ve got now. You’ll always have me, but I won’t always have you. Ellie will go and get married, if not to that self-possessed doctor then to someone else who’ll see what a good catch she is, and you’ll do the same.’

Matt made to protest, but Christopher interrupted. ‘Oh, I know you probably think that’s it; that you’ll never bother again. That nobody will ever want you and who cares anyway? That’s how I felt. Isolated. Totally alone. And miserable. You can get quite used to it. It becomes an art form. Enjoyable in its own way. Well, undemanding anyway. You don’t have to make any effort to stay there, believe me. It’s dead easy. But then when someone does come along, when you’d all but given up hope, and you find yourself thinking that they’re more than just good company; that there’s something else there–a spark of joy, of hope–just remind yourself of this conversation. It doesn’t matter one jot whether you’re a man with a woman or a man with a man, or a woman with a woman, when you’ve been battling on your own for over a year and somebody comes along who enjoys being with you you’ll find yourself actually wanting to get up in the morning.’

It wasn’t until he heard himself speaking; heard himself putting his own thoughts into words that he saw how he had begun to change. That Maria had affected him more than he had realized. He began to smile. ‘You notice things–colours, smells. Things you’ve always taken for granted. It might be a cliché, but it’s true. It sharpens your senses. Brings you to life. And it’s only then that you understand how dead you were before. You wait and see. And nobody should be denied it, or, worse still, deny themselves the chance to explore it.’ He stopped and then wondered if, to his son, this all sounded rather foolish. ‘That’s all.’

Matt sat quietly for a moment, then stood up. ‘I’m going to bed,’ he said.

Tiger regained consciousness the following day. Erica was with him when he opened his eyes. He appeared to have difficulty focussing at first, but then he seemed to be able to make her out and smiled weakly.

In a sudden rush of relief Erica lay her head on the bed and sobbed. Then she felt his hand stroking her hair, and she lifted her head to look at him, though she could barely see through the veil of tears.

‘Where’ve you been?’ she asked. ‘Where’ve you been?’