There is an article in the morning paper: ‘When Can Grown Men Cry?’ It is by a woman, in the section that caters for women. Jomier does not read it but thinks back to the three occasions when he has wept as a grown man – his father’s death, his mother’s death, and when he discovered that Tilly was sleeping with Max. He sometimes rereads the entries in his journal that describe these events. Or he goes back further in his life to read the letters that Tilly wrote when she loved him. After the divorce, when she no longer loved him, they would communicate by fax. The faxes are in the box with the letters, but have faded into blank yellow scrolls. This will not affect the integrity of Jomier’s archive: the faxes are mostly matter-of-fact statements about the comings and goings of the children which are recorded in his appointment diaries. Jomier has kept all his appointment diaries as well as his letters, journals and printouts of significant emails. They are in an Office World cardboard box.

In other Office World boxes are the letters from other women whom Jomier has loved or thought that he loved; women who loved him or thought they loved him. Or pretended they loved him. Jomier remains tormented by the idea of love. He still yearns to love and be loved by a woman and despises himself for this yearning. Why will not his psyche face the facts? Si jeunesse savait, si vieillesse pouvait. Every morning mocking emails break through his spam filter on to the screen of his computer to offer drugs that will restore his potency, enlarge his penis, drive women wild. Why him? How do they know? Was his penis too small – too short or too thin? Was that what Max had over him? He had asked Tilly. A bigger penis? A better technique? A more mature ejaculation? She would not answer. ‘C’est privé.’ She was English and so talked about sex in French. Frottage. Soixante-neuf. Ooh la la!

When Jomier was young, in the years between the loss of his virginity and going steady with Tilly, he would attempt to have sex with any girl he fancied. It was less easy then than it is now. Girls were afraid they would get pregnant. The pill had been invented but doctors would not prescribe it for unmarried women. Married women could get Dutch caps and IUDs – intrauterine devices – from their doctors. French letters could be bought from seedy barbers’ shops but Jomier, like most of his friends, was too embarrassed to ask. It was up to the girl to take precautions. And there was abortion – illegal, but discreetly available for those who could pay.