Marja, a masseuse Vee has used since her last illness, came to the house and worked her magic yesterday. The gripe of the headache was driven away, and Vee slept for ten hours without the trace of a dream or the shadow of a pain. It was bliss. But today, she feels worse, and it’s partly because of the hospital, of course, its synthetic light and lack of air, all of the people she has never met touching her and calling her by her first name. But it also feels though her brain is punishing her for the respite that a long sleep brought. Maybe this is how it’s going to go: a back and forth of headache and rest from it, with the balance shifting, day by day, until there is never peace but only pain and lesser pain. Maybe it’s already happening; maybe her perception is shifting, and her head always hurts. That might explain the towering impatience she is feeling this afternoon.

‘Here you go,’ says the cab driver, ‘visiting your grandkids, are you? I’ve got a dozen of ’em. It’s all my wife ever does, go to see them. It’s a new lease of life.’

‘I’m going to work,’ Vee says, ‘and you’re making a lot of assumptions.’ She gives him the exact money.

It is all, still, such a great effort.

*

Vee takes in the silence and the space, walks down the path to the house, steps slow and quiet. Although the day isn’t warm there’s something gentle and soothing in it. Spring, perhaps.

Air and light. She hasn’t had enough of them today. Her daily walks along the river, from Battersea Park to Putney and back, have been part of her routine for years, but lately she hasn’t had the energy, or her sleep has been so bad that she hasn’t been able to face it. And morning, early, is really the only time: everyone is doing their walk or run or dog-exercising before the day begins, so there are nods of recognition but no risk of conversation. It suits her perfectly. Suited.

She rubs at the place on her arm again. Her scalp is itchy with the aftermath of sweat and scrutiny. Straightening her shoulders, she rings the doorbell. She’s exactly on time.