In the midst of this disintegration I received a surprise and entirely unwelcome visit from an old friend. Returning home one morning from breakfast I opened the door to find Michael sitting in the armchair by my bed. I had left the room locked, but I always put the key on top of one of the cabinets in the kitchenette across the landing, and he had not forgotten. I was irritated by his invasion, as the room was in a state of squalor. I had taken to eating meals alone, buying food from the supermarket and consuming it in my room. The unmade bed was surrounded by empty Coke cans and plastic sandwich packs. I had not seen Michael in six months. He was wearing a checked shirt, black penny loafers and a pair of smart blue jeans. He had put on more weight, and he looked unbearably vital. The girth of his trunk looked like the result of growth, not inactivity, like a young tree staking a hundred-year claim to the space under its canopy. The blue shadow of his stubble looked like the mark of maturity. He was coursing with dynamism, and it exhausted me to look at him. I felt envious of his luck, of the difference between us, as if we had taken drugs from the same needle and I had been infected whilst he had gone straight.

‘I hope you don’t mind, old chap, but I let myself in.’

‘I don’t have anything to say to you, Michael. Please leave.’

‘I will in a moment, but first I have something I need to say to you.’

I felt tired. I turned away from him and hung up my coat on the back of the door. ‘Did Lord Soulford send you to spy?’

‘He asked me to, yes, but I declined. I’m here entirely on my own behalf, and of course on Francis’s.’

‘I think you’ve already made your choices, Michael.’

Michael shifted in his chair, and nodded without looking at me. That nod was the closest thing we ever received by way of an apology. It was over so quickly, and his confidence reasserted itself so smoothly, that I immediately doubted whether I had seen it at all. He said, ‘I didn’t just stop thinking about the four of you, if that’s what you’re implying. Frankly I’ve known Francis a lot longer than you have, and I still consider him a friend, despite your best efforts.’

I hated the fact that even in this extremity, Michael could not resist the temptation to assert his social dominance, and in the face of such overwhelming evidence to the contrary. It filled me with a sudden fury that made everything quite clear, like the cleansing fear I had felt during our climbs. All my tiredness and confusion fell away. I made a conscious decision to take the social muzzle off my mouth and speak freely. ‘With all due respect, Michael, fuck you. Francis’s real friends will look after him.’