Then, at that point, I go to Celia's. I don't reveal to her that I'm keeping away from DS Davies, that I'm fleeing from reality.
***
On Sunday I meet my Buddhist instructor and another understudy called Maya, and we go for supper at Wagamama in Soho. As we're sitting tight for our food I tell Rinpoche – that is the honorific his understudies use to address him – there's something at the forefront of my thoughts that I need to impart to him.
Go on, he says.
My sibling Alonzo is in jail, accused of killing his 15-year old niece Amelia, and different pedophile acts including little youngsters. I accept he is blameworthy.
His forehead wrinkled as though he's abruptly struck by extreme cerebral pain. He peers down and says nothing for seemingly until the end of time. I'm starting to puzzle
