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course. One never told people who were history that they were history. They knew it all right; there was no need to rub it in.
    â€œI’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “What happened?”
    Bruce slipped down off the surface and moved over to the toaster. He put two slices of bread into the slot and depressed the lever. Toast would make him feel better; it always did.
    â€œOh, she became a bit too clingy,” he said casually. “You know how it is. You’re getting on fine with somebody and then all of a sudden they want more and more of you. It just gets too much. So I gave her her freedom.”
    Pat listened to this with interest. It was as if he was Gavin Maxwell talking about an otter, or Joy Adamson talking about a lioness.
I gave her her freedom.
    â€œYou let her go?” she asked, trying to conceal her amusement.
    â€œYou could say that,” said Bruce.
    â€œI see,” said Pat. “And where did she want to go? Back to America?”
    â€œShe would have stayed here to be with me,” said Bruce. “But I didn’t want to be selfish. I didn’t want to put her in a position where she had to choose between me and…”
    â€œAnd the United States?” prompted Pat.
    â€œSomething like that,” said Bruce.
    â€œPoor girl,” said Pat. “It must have been so hard for her.”

    Bruce nodded. “I think it was.” His toast popped up and he reached for the butter. “But water under the bridge, as they say. Let’s not talk about it any more. Let’s look to the future. Plenty of other girls–know what I mean?”
    â€œOf course there are,” said Pat. “And you’ve got a lot in your life as it is.”
    Bruce looked at her. “Are you winding me up?” he asked.
    â€œYes,” said Pat. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. You see, wouldn’t it be easier to tell the truth? Wouldn’t it be easier to admit that you’ve lost your job and your girlfriend? Then I could tell you how sorry I am and that might help a little, just a bit. Instead of which you stand there and spin a story about resigning and giving people their freedom and all the rest. It’s all a lie, isn’t it, Bruce?”
    Bruce, who had been buttering the toast as he spoke, stopped what he was doing. He looked down at the plate, and moved the toast slowly to one side, putting down the knife. Then his shoulders began to heave and he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Pat in the kitchen, alone with her sudden guilt.

15. Domenica Advises
    â€œI feel terrible,” said Pat to Domenica. “I could have stopped myself, but I didn’t. And then, suddenly, he seemed to crumple.”
    â€œCrumple?” asked Domenica, taking a sip of her sherry. It was a lovely thought. “Deflate?”
    â€œYes,” said Pat. “And that was it. He left the kitchen–and I felt terribly guilty. After all, he’s lost his job and now he’s lost his girlfriend. I suppose he just felt a bit vulnerable–and I made it all the worse for him by crowing.”
    Domenica shook her head. “You didn’t crow. You just told him a few truths about himself. I suspect that you did him a good turn.”
    Pat thought about this. Perhaps it was time for Bruce to be deflated, and perhaps she was the person who had to do it. And yet it had not been easy and she had felt bad about it; so bad that she had come straight through to speak to Domenica.
    â€œNot that your good turn will have much effect,” Domenica went on. “I don’t think that a few painful moments will have much long-term impact on that young man. Yes, he’s feeling miserable, and he might do a little bit of thinking as a result of what you said. But people don’t change all that radically on the basis of a few remarks made to them. It takes much more than that. In fact, there’s the view that people don’t change