“That would be . . . that would be nice, Edvard . . .”

The woman was inspecting my phone. I put my keys and belt onto the conveyor, and stepped through the scanner.

Edvard was watching me, expectant.

“I’m going to see you in there, Edvard. I have a couple of calls to make.”

“See you in there.”

I watched him go, then called Jo.

“Hey, Cal,” said Jo. “Good piece. Moving.”

“I worry I come across as angry. So anyway—”

“Righteous anger.”

I was in the foyer now. I sat on a low wooden bench. “So anyway, Edvard’s here at the courthouse, and he wanted to sit together, and I guess I was wondering how things were between you, because he was being a little odd.”

A long pause. “Odd is a pretty fair description of how things are between Edvard and me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And you really don’t want to hear about our problems.”

“Actually, I kind of do.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Cal, he moved into the spare room. Says he wants us to experiment with celibacy. Like it’s something I should be getting excited about.”

“Wow.”

“And then he asks me if I think Mila Kunis is hot.”

“Okay . . .”

“It’s like he’s practicing not being gay,” said Jo. “Or being married. I mean, is Mila Kunis hot to married men? And who in the world decides it’s a good idea to experiment with celibacy?” He was making light, but I could hear the pain behind the words. “It’s like when his parents came to stay and I pretended to be his roommate. Only no one’s coming to stay. The flat is like a morgue.”

“Wait a second,” I said to Jo, because there was Vee, coming down the stairs, computer bag in hand.

I moved to stand up, but Vee did not see me. She began walking toward the exit. I watched as she passed, then stood up. At the top of the courthouse steps she looked about herself, then headed quickly away.

“No offense about being married, by the way,” Jo was saying.

“None taken. I’m so fucking sorry, Jo. Listen, I should go . . .”

“I know,” he said. “I’m being an energy sink. Sorry. You don’t need it.”

“No, mate. I want to hear.”

“Not what you signed up for.”

“Beer soon,” I said. “Gotta go.”

I reached the top of the courthouse steps, thinking I’d lost Vee, but she was striding back toward me from the edge of the square.

“Mum’s right,” she said as she reached the top of the steps. “Today’s pointless.”

Still, though: She was avoiding my gaze. She turned and looked out across the square as if checking some detail.

“What’s happening, Vee? Where were you going?”

She turned and looked me in the eye. “Nothing, Dad, and nowhere. Don’t spy on me.”