George called, saying he had waited thirty-five years for this phone call.

What, this one? My mind was racing with every misdemeanour, until I remembered I had only known him six years.

No, with my sister. She just called and said sorry, at last! After all these years.

The quiver in George's voice was something new, a fearful crack.

What's she sorry about?

The past, he said, the past. I should never have given up teaching. I could be Head of Department by now, I know I could! Why did I do that...? Why was I so stupid...?

Having answered his own question, he was silent. What could I say?

We soon hung up but the crack in his voice stayed with me, like the awful noise of an animal that does not know it is not dead.

I went to bed alone knowing, as ever, that while capable, I must have as much sex as possible. After a few moments that felt like nonsense, but I don't remember why.