The doctor told him the word for what’s wrong with him.

– You are phengophobic, Ivor.

– I’m what?

– It’s an acute fear of light, daylight in particular – that’s your phobia.

– Aw ma life, that’s it?

– Aye, your job and your lifestyle have supported you so you can hide it mostly, Ivor. You avoid daylight most of the time. But now you’ve lost the job, your relationship has broken down… I think you are having an episode of depression.

– I dinnae get that, doctor, noh, I dinnae get depression, never had it, never will.

– Have you had any thoughts of suicide, Ivor?

– Nut.

– Depression is not unusual among young men especially when they are under financial and family pressure, Ivor… I lost my nephew that way and too many men refuse to talk about it – well, we just need to ask.

Ivor did not tell him that he thinks of ten ways to die each day.

He’s not an idiot! He told the doctor absolutely jack shit about that. Aye! They’d have him locked up in the Royal Ed, being fed mush and pissing himself, before he could say – fuck it.

He goes into Esme’s room and she is up already. Before light comes. She takes his hand. Doesn’t comment on his tear-stained face. It probably doesn’t show in her wee starlit room. She has set up a tea party with all the Care Bears except Love-a-Lot. She pours tea. Hands him a tiny pink plastic cup.

– Sit!

Ivor struggles to cross his legs.

They stick out awkwardly in front of him like they belong to some other cunt.

She picks up a hanky from her dolly and casual as anything – leans over and wipes the tears from his face.

– I uhmnay gonna lie, it’s really no gonnae be okay, Uncle Ivor.

– It won’t?

– No, I don’t think it’s gonnae be guid. No fir the trees. Or the people. It’s not going to be okay for anything in the end.

She looks up at him.

A tiny sage with ribbons in her hair.

– It might get better, Esme?

– Noh, it winnae.

He laughs.

– It’s no funny, Uncle Ivor, no fir Jessie, or her wee girl Hope, or Elise. They urnay ever gonnae be okay.

– Are they… invisible friends?

– Invisible to you!

She smacks her hand off her forehead and shakes her head, admonishing his great unseeing.

– I believe you, Esme, I know there’s things other people cannae see that are real.

– They urnay invisible, Uncle Ivor. Jessie is sat right there where you sleep. There’s Elise playing make-up with ma powder puff and the bairn – she’s always toddling about eftir me. I keep growing but she stays the same size all the time and she’s had three birthdays since I met her.