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should be getting married at that age; I should be getting married, to Julia.’ He broke down sobbing.
    I saw a glimpse of the old George. The George that I had adored. The one who was kind, sensitive and caring. He was crushed.
    ‘So she didn’t want to get married, but why did you split up?’
    ‘It was her idea to break up. She said that if we both wanted such different things then maybe we should take a break from each other.’
    ‘A break maybe, but a total split?’
    ‘Obviously she doesn’t love me enough.’
    ‘Not necessarily.’
    ‘Holly, it’s obvious. Women want to get married, most women do. So the reason she turned me down is because she doesn’t love me enough.’ Just as I was about to protest he started crying again.
    The first time I saw George cry was when Samantha left. I had cried too and he made me promise not to tell anyone. Our friendship was sealed on that promise. I don’t think I ever saw him cry after that. Until now.
    Not knowing what to do with a blubbing grown man, I folded my arms, well I was frozen. My mobile beeped at me to announce a text message; it was from Joe. I was about to read it when George moved towards me, his arms extended for a comforting hug.
    ‘I missed you,’ he said.
    ‘I missed you too.’ It was true I had, at one time. I didn’t feel that in his current state he needed me to bring up the last time we met.
    ‘I’ve never had a friendship as good as ours.’
    ‘Me either.’ I wanted to ask him why he had been so willing to sacrifice it, but that wasn’t the appropriate moment.
    ‘Friends forever?’ he asked, looking at me the way he used to when he was a teenager.
    ‘Of course,’ I replied. Well, what else could I say? I looked at him. His manic eyes seemed to have taken on a life of their own. One minute they were full of tears, the next they were staring at me, the next they seemed to be crossed. I experienced a huge jolt of genuine concern, although I couldn’t pinpoint if it was for him or for me. Although why I should need concern when George had been dumped, I had no idea. I just felt I should.
    ‘I thought she loved me,’ George exclaimed, interrupting my thoughts. This time his eyes were boring into mine and he was incensed. I felt scared. ‘I was so sure she loved me. I loved her, she loved me. That’s the way it works isn’t it Holly?’ His eyes continued staring into mine and I wanted to cower, but I didn’t. Although this was a George I had never, ever seen before, I stayed put. ‘I did nothing to deserve this,’ he continued. His voice was rising, getting harsher, meaner. Then into a softer cadence, but not for long. ‘Everything...I did everything for her. And now the bitch has taken everything away from me. My job, my life; she took it all and she burned it and handed me back the ashes. I was wrong Holly, I must have been wrong.’
    ‘About what?’
    ‘About love of course. The only explanation for all this, the only thing that will ever make any sense is the fact that I got it all wrong. I got love wrong. I did it, not her. Me. Yes that’s it, I am the one who got it wrong.’ I had no idea what he was talking about, but he was scaring me now. ‘There was this fug in my brain. Thick fug and now I think it might be going. Yes, something is clearing the way so I can think again.’ He looked at me with those manic, stranger’s eyes. His mad rant had tapered off. He appeared to be deep in thought, although the edge of madness that had crept into him was still lingering.
    ‘I’m going back to London today,’ I said, for want of changing the subject. I knew it was totally inadequate, but this conversation had to be re-routed.
    ‘I’ll probably be moving up later in the week.’ He was regaining control.
    ‘Really? You’re transferring your job?’
    ‘No, I’m going to take a sabbatical. I’ve got to clear it formally but I put the request in and signs are it will be approved. Then I’m going to rent a flat in