the building to give it.
Three weeks, he had had that letter. Three weeks of still getting up at ten past seven.
I have asked him about those three weeks more than about the other eleven months.
Because the eleven months I understand. Eleven months is a man in a hole digging.
Three weeks is a man with a ladder.And what he has told me, eventually, in the July, is that he read that letter in the car outside the hospital and then he sat there for about forty minutes.
And what he was working out was not how to tell me.
It was how to explain the eleven months.
Because the day the letter arrived, the thing he had been protecting me from stopped being the suspension and became the lying.
He said: I had something I could survive telling you in March. By January I didn’t.
PART
