‘There are other things that can be enjoyed – like talking and meeting people, going places together and really getting to know each other. We seem to have forgotten all about those things.’

‘Have you stopped loving me?’

I laughed. ‘No. By no means.’

‘I was away too long, I realise that now. I have let you slip through my fingers.’

‘What a cod you are.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Sorry … Irishspeak. I’ll translate for you the next time I see you.’

A confused sound of voices reached my ear and then a door slammed.

‘Where are you?’ I asked.

‘Having breakfast. We had no dinner last night, remember? I have to have breakfast. It’s a noisy coffee-house just down the street from the office. I have to go, my darling. Yes. Seven o’clock will suit me fine. We will do as you suggested. Goodbye.’ He put the receiver down.

Have I won a battle or lost it? I wondered.

Why bother wondering?

I fell asleep and had to rush to get to work on time.

Les Enfants du Paradis

The tragic white clown face of Barrault has always remained in my mind since the first time I saw the film at the age of eighteen, on a holiday in London. Now it has more poignance than ever before, as it was standing by a blown-up picture of the clown, arms outstretched, head drooping comically to one side, and tears swelling from his eyes, that the bubble of unreality in which I had been living burst.

Big Bang.

I can laugh now. I can make jokes about it now. I don’t want to see that lovely film though for years to come; I don’t want to cry as I watch it for all the wrong reasons.

He held my hand, from time to time raising it to his mouth and kissing each knuckle. His fingers held me tight, just as if, I believed at that moment, he never wanted to let me go. When the film was over he turned me towards him and wiped the tears from my cheeks with his fingers and then we went out into the street. We stood for a moment beside the poster, and the crowd leaving the cinema gently buffeted us as they passed.

‘So?’ I asked him. ‘What do you think?’

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Give me a list of great movies like that and we will go and see them all. We will spend the rest of our lives going to see them. Thank—’

‘Hi, James. Quelle surprise. Didn’t know you ever went to the movies. How are things with you?’

James let go of my hand. He looked resigned, as if this was something that he knew was going to happen sometime.

‘Richard! Good to see you. It’s been ages.’

Richard stuck his hand out towards me. ‘Richard Hayes,’ he said.

I shook his hand. I was about to tell him my name, but he spoke again.