I couldn’t see her face but she must have been wondering how she had got herself in this predicament. I felt wretched. I rolled over and moved my head away. I stood up and sat down on the sofa beside her.

‘I’m not going to kiss you, Paul,’ she said.

‘I’m not going to kiss you either,’ I said.

And then we kissed, which was a great relief from having to talk to each other, and after half a minute or so she pushed me away and said, ‘No. Sorry.’

Then we did it again, with great surprising naturalness, which might have encouraged a sentimental person to believe that we were fated for each other, and after a bit longer she pushed me away and said, ‘No. Sorry. I really mean it.’

I nodded and lay back.

‘What a day,’ she said.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘It’s improved considerably.’

‘It was a nice kiss,’ she said. ‘But we can’t do it again.’

It wasn’t all I wanted. But it was a good enough start. It’s like you keep telling me. We achieve our progress in increments.

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‌Fifteen

When I get to your place early I have to sit in the bus stop across the road, keeping an eye out for the middle-aged woman who has the slot before me. She comes out at fifty-one minutes past, on the dot, every week. I study her face when she gets out, trying to see if she looks to have undergone significant emotional insight. But the face doesn’t reveal such changes easily. She might just as well have come from a dentist’s.

I wait a few minutes until she’s gone and buzz the door. I’m glad to see you. And you are good at appearing glad to see me. But then we have to talk about my life.

‘How do you feel now you’ve agreed the sale of your mother’s house?’

‘Bereft.’

There’s a long silence between us. I have become familiar with this tactic of yours and have begun to wonder to what extent it is for therapeutic purposes and to what extent you are simply taking a paid break. I’m not saying you’re negligent in your professional duties, but you must get weary of listening to all this moaning.

‘Aren’t you going to ask me something else?’ I say.

‘You’ve just admitted to feeling bereft. I’m waiting to see if you say something facetious, if you make a joke about it.’

‘What did the salmon say when he swam into a wall?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Damn!’

You take another minute’s paid break before you ask, ‘Will you go back much?’

‘Home? No. Well, there won’t be a home to go to.’

‘And how do you feel about that?’