“No, thank you.” He looked so wretched that I forced myself to make an effort. “This must be really horrible for you, Fergus. But I’m glad you told me. It would have been terrible not to. I’m grateful.”

“He was a fool. An idiot. But he loved you, Ellie, I know he did. You mustn’t forget that.”

“It’s nice of you to say so. If you don’t mind, I’d quite like to be alone now, Fergus.”

He stood up, and I remained where I was, so that he had to bend down awkwardly to kiss me on both cheeks.

“I’ll phone later,” he said.

After he had gone, I continued sitting on the sofa with my hands clasped together. I don’t know how long I stayed like that, or what I thought about. Perhaps those words: “I’ll show you more new tricks.” What kind of love note was that, with its tacky and teasing suggestiveness, as if Greg was a circus pony and she the ringmaster with the whip and black boots? I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the images that were flooding through me. Perhaps I thought how extraordinarily, stunningly and flawlessly good he had been at keeping it secret from me, like a professional spy. Perhaps I thought it didn’t make sense, or that it made perfect sense, at last.

Finally I stood up and pulled out the chart again, staring at the gap in the schedule that I could now fill in: Greg was with Milena. I unrolled her much less filled-in chart as well. Nothing for September 12 there either. So. She had wanted him to stay the night next time. Had he? I couldn’t see when he would have done, but neither could I see why it should matter anymore. I had the evidence I’d been searching for and dreading. As clearly as if she was in the room, I heard Mary’s voice: “Now you can get on with the rest of your life.”

Right. I stood up abruptly and went upstairs into our bedroom; into my bedroom. I opened the wardrobe and pulled out Greg’s handful of smart shirts, most of which I’d given him over the years, and his jackets. They would do for a start. I had been going to share them out among friends but now that didn’t feel right. On my way downstairs, I grabbed his old toweling robe from the back of the door. I wouldn’t be snuggling up in it on a cold evening anymore.