“Would you like to go into the lounge?” Jeffrey asks. “You might be more comfortable sitting in an easy chair.”
I think it through. “No, I’d prefer to be here, thanks.” I don’t know why, but there’s something reassuring about having a solid table in front of me. I suppose it’s like a division separating me from anyone asking questions. Although I know Jeffrey’s on my side and it’s me who asked him to do this, it’s still a defence of sorts.
Jeffrey asks me to run through everything I told Paula and Zoe. Jenny’s sitting beside me with her arm around my shoulder. It helps to be held and occasionally I look at her and smile. I try to be as informative as I can, but I find I can’t look at Jeffrey while I’m speaking. Instead, I look down at the table or shut my eyes. To make it easier, I try t
