We cut through the line waiting in front of the club, and Brian waves us in. Well, he says, if it isn’t the return of the prodigal son.

Connor laughs and says, Nah, you obviously haven’t met our father. He’d happily sell us both to Satan for a loaf of bread. Well, me anyhow.

Echo is the same as the last time I was here. The bar is still sticky. Martin is still trying to solicit beer for his parrot. The music is still teeth-clenchingly loud.

But it’s like going back to your old elementary school to visit your teachers and finding the water fountains too low to reach. Maybe The Echo hasn’t changed, but I have.

Connor and I dance, and, for once, it isn’t his eyes straying around the room, it’s mine.

But it doesn’t matter where I look. Gabriel isn’t here.

Afterward at the diner, Connor gives me the lecture that he’s been holding onto all night. A summation of the reasons why I’m better off without Gabriel, all the reasons why I’d be safer, happier, and more interesting, if I could forget about him.

I’m glad my brother cares, but I don’t really give a shit about his opinion on this.

Just because you’re finally happy doesn’t make you Dr. Ruth, I say. Although the thought of Connor as a fifty-something radio sex therapist is surprisingly amusing.

And just because you’ve had a one-night stand, doesn’t make you Rob Lowe, he replies.

Dear Michael:

London is suffering me about as well as I’m suffering it. At least Big Ben hasn’t stopped ringing (You do realise that Ben is the bell and not the tower, correct?). And so, life goes on.

Unbeknownst to me, my aunt graciously volunteered my services to a local theatre troupe. They are putting on the most godforsakenly irrelevant production of My Fair Lady (well, is there any such thing as a relevant production of My Fair Lady? One wonders…). Anyhow, you can imagine how difficult it has been to hide my glee at being part of such a piece of artistic merit (insert sarcasm here).

I hope your brother is still over the moon. I hope Becky is behaving herself. Or perhaps not, so long as she’s happy. Please give her a hug and tell her to expect a letter as well. As you can imagine, I got quite an earful from her in the post for leaving without seeing her.

I hear what you’re saying about writing for the paper. I agree. I’m not sure that’s the correct place to work out your feelings, since you’re so confused about them, anyhow. Also, I don’t think Becky will hate you if you say no. I mean, she’s still my friend and I say no to her frequently.

As for Gabriel… Oh, Michael, I’m not sure I know what to tell you. But that you’re still thinking about him says something. Someone once told me that things left undone leave more of a wound than things that are done, but which cause pain. I guess that’s my way of saying it might be good for you to see him at least once more. Then see how you feel. Maybe, if nothing else, you can end up as friends. Although I suspect you’re looking for more than that.