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The silence and loneliness I suddenly felt didn’t sit well in the room anymore. I shouldn’t be here. Not on my own. I had no idea what to do with myself, staring at the alien space around me. What kind of man could exist in a place like this? Clean. Bare. Soulless.

A bit like me.

Stewart was a nice man, though. Direct and friendly at the same time. Steady. I liked that.

But a friendship was the last thing I needed. I needed to get myself together, not hang out with the neighbours, drinking far too much tea, my bladder reminded me,once again protesting at the amount of liquid I’d consumed today.

I found my phone and curled up on the bed, still dressed in the haphazard items of clothing I’d found earlier.

Maybe I should dress better. Wear a shirt and tie. I hadn’t worn one for so long and felt uneasy even at the thought of masquerading as someone I no longer was.

The messages were sparse these days, but there was another one from Jean, my former PA, nagging me to give her a call, send her a text. Anything.

I don’t know if it was the adrenaline of the day that made me do it, but I did. I rang her back, my hands shaking as the call connected.

“Dylan,” she purred in clear delight. “Are you all right?”

“Hi, Jean,” I said weakly, already regretting this incredibly stupid idea. But I’d talked today. Maybe I could talk more. “How are you?”

“How am I?” She laughed. “Still sat here like a lemon, trying to figure out how to be an old bird. I can’t knit, I definitely can’t bake, and my daughter-in-law made me do a Zumba class. I got on the floor at the end and couldn’t get up. I’m not cut out for this life. But enough about me, how are you, dear?”

“Dear?” I repeated, laughing. She knew me. And I knew her.

“Dylan, dear. How are you?”

“I’m shit, Jean, but you know this.”

“I do,” she said softly. “But here we are.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

We’d worked together for years. There were a lot of words we didn’t need to share. Like the guilt I’d always carry for ruining the end of her career. Just like I’d ruined mine.

“Are you ready to try to salvage some of what we left behind? Those boxes still there?” she asked. I could almost see her nose twitching in eagerness. She was usually a patient woman, and her newfound impatience was all down to me.

“I don’t know,” I sighed out before I lost my nerve. “I don’t know, Jean.”

“I told you, and I will say it again. I don’t care if you can’t pay me. I don’t care if I have to work out of your kitchen and have you make me cups of that awful tea you used to drink. But I do care about you, Dylan. And I don’t want things to end like this. We still had projects, clients and people we let down. I don’t believe we can salvagemuch, but we can start again. I have contacts. You have the expertise. We can do this. If you’ll still have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you. I just don’t know if you’ll have me.”

“You’re still you, Dylan. All that quiet charm and elegance, and you’re a decent man. A good lawyer. We used to make a great team. I think we still do.”

“You should have found another job, Jean.” Same old, same old. We’d been through this over and over again. Months. Almost a year.

“I’m too old. I’ve not kept up with the systems and technology, and I miss the office and the phones ringing. I miss doing your schedule and speaking to people. I applied for a few positions, I admit to that, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t feel right. The offices were too big and too busy and all these young people on top of each other, and they were asking all these questions in the interviews, and I just… You know what I’m like, Dylan. I liked what we had. Just you and me and all those computers.”

“Youhatedthe computers.”

“I did. But I got around them, and I even made friends with that double-screen set-up and the new phone system.”

“You whipped them into shape in no time. Got me up and running.”

“Remember the second day with the new software? When I’d got the meetings double-booked and the dates were all wrong for your appointments, and we ended up having Young&Modern and Ralph Andersson in at the same time?”

I had to laugh. Yes, it had been wildly unprofessional, and if not for Jean, we’d have had a lawsuit on our hands.

“You’re a good actress.”