‘I’ve drawn out half of our savings from the bank.’ Jake holds out a wad of money. ‘This is yours. I thought you might need it.’

‘Thanks.’ I’m not sure that I will need it. Where I’m going there’s nothing to spend money on, but I do value the gesture. My meals will be provided for me and I get a weekly allowance for personal expenditure from the charity—which amounts to about five pounds. I’ve persuaded Monica that she might want to run a couple of articles about pregnancy in different parts of the world in the hope that I can write them to supplement my meagre income or to put some money away for a rainy day.

Unspoken words hang silently between us. ‘What do you want to do about the house?’ he asks.

‘Can you afford to stay here alone?’

‘Yes,’ he says. ‘The new job comes with a great salary package.’ Jake tries to sound upbeat. ‘We would have been able to have anything we wanted. Well…nearly anything.’

We avoid looking at each other.

‘I might sell it and move somewhere bigger,’ he says with a flash of bravado that doesn’t quite ring true.

‘There’s no need to do anything hasty.’ I’m a fine one to talk. ‘I don’t need my share of the money from the house yet,’ I say. I have the offer of lodgings with my job if I need them. I’ve explained my situation to the voluntary organisation I’ll be attached to and, in theory, they’re trying to place me near Dean’s village, but I’ll have to wait and see. In practice I’ve agreed to be sent anywhere, as there are teacher shortages all over the Himalayas. I could be nestling in the foothills of Everest this time next week. And I wonder what Neve would think about that. ‘Let’s just see how it goes.’

‘Well, it will go up in value if nothing else,’ Jake says, reverting to the British way of viewing their homes as commodities. ‘And if you need to come back…want to come back,’ he mumbles, ‘you’ve always got a place here.’

‘I appreciate that.’ And then to get onto less dodgy ground, ‘When do you start your new job?’

‘Next week.’ He sounds brighter. ‘I’m looking forward to it. It’ll take my mind off…things.’

‘I hope it goes well,’ I say. ‘I’m sure you’ll be a big success.’

‘I’d rather you were staying here to share it with me.’

‘Well…’

‘Look—’ Jake picks at his fingernails, ‘if this doesn’t work out…for whatever reason…then I’ll be waiting.’ His eyes fill with tears. ‘I’ll be waiting.’

I go to him and hug him, kissing him gently. ‘Don’t wait for me,’ I say.