Except now he doesn’t know what he wants. He chuckles. Now she has been put in her place, now she is where she should be. His voice is calm as it was on her answering machine, laid-back as if he can barely be bothered to talk, as if there is nothing at stake for him, as if he doesn’t mind either way. She is gasping for air. Say yes! Say yes!

‘So do you want to see me?’

‘Yes!’

‘Do you know where I am staying?’

‘Aren’t you staying in the same place as last night?’

He laughs. It was a joke. He was joking!

‘I think it’s too late,’ he then says.

‘I don’t mind. I’ll take a taxi.’

He hesitates. ‘I think it’s too late,’ he says again.

If she had been at home, he says, when he called, but she wasn’t. That is her punishment. She begs, she pleads, he says no, he has made up his mind. Hurt me, hurt me so I can feel who I am.