Lo and behold, you know what? A miracle did save me, Dr. R! I began to feel different almost the moment we got there. It was extraordinary. I could actually feel the tension in my body begin to disperse. It was magical, as if the hand of God had been placed on my shoulder; I could feel His big strong world-crushing fingers gently untangling those knots in my back, digging into my neck, massaging away all that stress. By the time we’d been handed a glass of wine and were chatting at the doors, my body felt warm and malleable. Then when I sat down at our table, I noticed something beautiful happening inside my head: I can only describe it as my brain being placed in a warm bath for a long soak. I sat there grinning. I don’t think I had ever felt this good in my life before: 100 per cent good. So complete! So peaceful! My troubles were risible. Why had I been so worried about everything when this was how life could be? There was nothing to fear, it was so obvious to me now: life was a gift. I waved at Dr. Rhys Evans and that lovely idiot of a husband of hers. I waved at everyone. I loved everyone. I loved the school. I loved Karl. I loved Ness. I was love.

OK, perhaps I got a touch overenthusiastic during the quiz, possibly a little too competitive with the maths teacher’s table – maybe I shouted too loudly, laughed too raucously, and yes, I saw the way the headmaster was looking at me. I definitely shouldn’t have danced like that or fallen over and given myself an egg-head and, all right, crashing out in the kids’ toilet by the bog brush was not the best idea – but, never in my life had I felt such peace and compassion for the human race.

Yes, Dr. R, heaven is a 1 mg pill called Lorazepam.

* * *

The next day my head was not as bad as you might imagine and the egg had subsided considerably, along with my feelings of overpowering love. Ness begged me by text to go for a walk with her and I deigned to agree. I sent a curt reply: 4.30. Outside yours. I didn’t bother with verbs and nouns – she didn’t deserve them. I turned up late, just to demonstrate that I was calling the shots. I didn’t want to go through the gate and knock on the door – things I had done thousands of times before were now impossible – so I loitered in the street, but unfortunately I was spotted by Evie, who came to open the door. I hovered and smiled and made banal comments like Make Josh do some work, will you? Then Ness came out.