‘I don’t relish it at all. Do I? Maybe I’ve read too many old novels.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘The duplicitous hero, rising from the bottom to the top. It’s a consoling fantasy.’

‘But you don’t really aspire to that, do you? To being a liar who tricks people to get on?’

‘No. No.’

‘In an earlier session you said you hate good people, good guys.’

‘See: progress! You’re curing me. I’ll be sending out tweets about important issues soon.’

‘It’s good to joke but do you believe in anything enough to do that?’

‘To tweet? Do I believe in anything enough to tweet about it?’

‘Do you believe in anything enough to make a statement about it?’

‘I believe… people should be kind— Jesus, I sound like a tweet.’

‘You don’t believe people should be kind?’

‘Of course! Of fucking course! What is the likelihood of it? We’d have to give up too much. The people tweeting about kindness would have to give up more than anyone. It’s utterly meaningless. It should be hard to state what you believe in, shouldn’t it? That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? To try to do it truthfully?’

‘So let’s try!’ you say, slapping your hands on the desk. ‘Let’s keep on trying.’

*

On my penultimate shift I waited for Emily on a park bench. The sun had gone in as I sat down and the afternoon was turning gloomy. I saw her enter the square on the north side and come towards me wearing a trench coat. I thought of a spy handling her source and stood up to meet her as the rain began to come down. She put up an umbrella.

‘It’s been ages,’ I said.

We didn’t hug.

‘I know. Come on. Come under here. Let’s get inside.’

We went to the pub opposite the museum where the tourists were consuming their all-season meat-and-gravy dinners. I got her a lime soda and myself a pint.

‘I was glad you texted,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t sure whether we might have decided to drift away. I had quite a fractious conversation with Andrew.’

‘I know. I thought about ringing you when he told me.’

‘What did he tell you?’

‘He worried he was a bit heavy-handed and pissed you off. He said he was surprised by how much you seemed to hate him.’

‘That’s a bit melodramatic. I don’t hate him. I just objected to being lectured to like I was one of his fucking servants.’

‘He doesn’t actually have any servants, you know. Unless you count me.’

‘You’re not his servant.’

‘I am not his fucking servant. I’m glad we agree.’