‘When did this terrible thing happen?’

‘Two years ago. It was a lovely spring day, just like today. A peace and love kind of a day. The kind of a day when you get up in the morning and say, “It’s great to be alive.” I don’t want you to say anything, Mrs Barry.’

She shook her head.

‘I don’t want any of your decent kindly thoughts to rub off on me. I want to be allowed to hate in peace. I think that one of the reasons I liked Clara from the word go was the fact that I thought at that moment when I saw her first that she was going to do the thing that I had never yet had the guts to do. Get out.’

‘Drink your coffee before it gets cold.’

Obediently, he picked up the cup and took a quick sip.

‘Have you told Clara all this?’

‘No.’

She looked relieved.

‘I don’t tell anyone. As I said before, I like my privacies. I don’t want to rationalise, or share pain. I don’t want to heal, because there is always the possibility that that might mean forgetting. I want to remember every tiny detail and I want to hate. That’s all.’ He put the cup down. ‘I don’t know why I spoke to you. I wish I hadn’t. That’s no reflection on you. Please believe that.’ He pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘Thanks for the coffee. I’m sorry if you think I’m a selfish jerk.’

‘There is no need to tell Clara all this. I would prefer it if you were to leave her unburdened, for the time being anyway.’

‘I have no intention of burdening her – and just in case you’re thinking about all the rest of that stuff that goes on between men and women, don’t worry. I like her, but she’s not my cup of tea. Never would be even if I were …’

‘Were?’

‘Free.’

He nodded and turned towards the door.

She watched him move through the dark café. As he got to the door she called after him, ‘There’s a butcher halfway along the street on the right. He sells free-range chickens.’

I can smell chicken cooking.

I wonder if he knows how to use an Aga? I would hate my chicken to be charred.

I will resist going out and offering to give him a hand. Apart from the fact that I wouldn’t want to humiliate him, I feel he owes me a meal. I am saving him from himself. A fact I do not think he is aware of.

I think it is probably pulp nonsense that I am writing, but I will finish it through, my notes anyway so that I can look with a certain coolness at how I allowed myself to be duped and then … and then … what word should I use? The one that springs to mind is ‘destroyed’, but that is way over the top. ‘Damaged’ would be more accurate. And of course there is the matter of my future, my immortality, only I can secure that now.