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repression and to let themselves feel the pity and terror their war experience inevitably evoked, he was excavating the ground he stood on.
    The change he demanded of them – and by implication of himself – was not trivial. Fear, tenderness – these emotions were so despised that they could be admitted into consciousness only at the cost of redefining what it meant to be a man. Not that Rivers’s treatment involved any encouragement of weakness or effeminacy. His patients might be encouraged to acknowledge their fears, their horror of the war – but they were still expected to do their duty and return to France. It was Rivers’s conviction that those who had learned to know themselves, and to accept their emotions, were less likely to break down again.
    In a moment or two an orderly would tap on the door and bring in his tea. He put the notebook and pencil back on the bedside table. Henry would be amused by that dream, he thought. If wish fulfilment had been involved at all, it was surely one of Henry’s wishes that had been fulfilled. At the time of the nerve regeneration experiments, they’d done a series of control experiments on the glans penis, and Henry had frequently expressed the desire for a reciprocal application of ice cubes, bristles, near-boiling water and pins.

6
    __________
    Prior sat with his arms folded over his chest and his head turned slightly away. His eyelids looked raw from lack of sleep.
    ‘When did your voice come back?’ Rivers asked.
    ‘In the middle of the night. I woke up shouting and suddenly I realized I could talk. It’s happened before.’
    A Northern accent, not ungrammatical, but with the vowel sounds distinctly flattened, and the faintest trace of sibilance. Hearing Prior’s voice for the first time had the curious effect of making him look different. Thinner, more defensive. And, at the same time, a lot tougher. A little, spitting, sharp-boned alley cat.
    ‘It comes and goes?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What makes it go?’
    Another shrug from the repertoire. ‘When I get upset.’
    ‘And coming here upset you?’
    ‘I’d have preferred somewhere further south.’
    So would I. ‘What did you do before the war?’
    ‘I was a clerk in a shipping office.’
    ‘Did you like it?’
    ‘No. It was boring. ’ He looked down at his hands and immediately up again. ‘What did you do?’
    Rivers hesitated. ‘Research. Teaching.’
    ‘Did you like it?’
    ‘Yes, very much. Research more than teaching probably, but…’ He shrugged. ‘I enjoy teaching.’
    ‘I noticed. “Two l’s in physically, Mr Prior.”’
    ‘What an insufferable thing to say.’
    ‘I thought so.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’
    Prior didn’t know what to say to that. He looked down at his hands and mumbled, ‘Yes, well.’
    ‘By the way, your file arrived this morning.’
    Prior smiled. ‘So you know all about me, then?’
    ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that. What did become clear is that you had a spell in the 13th Casualty Clearing Station in…’ He looked at the file again. ‘January. Diagnosed neurasthenic.’
    Prior hesitated. ‘Ye-es.’
    ‘Deep reflexes abnormal.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘But on that occasion no trouble with the voice? Fourteen days later you were back in the line. Fully recovered?’
    ‘I’d stopped doing the can-can, if that’s what you mean.’
    ‘Were there any remaining symptoms?’
    ‘Headaches.’ He watched Rivers make a note. ‘It’s hardly a reason to stay out of the trenches, is it? “Not tonight, Wilhelm. I’ve got a headache” ?’
    ‘It might be. It rather depends how bad they were.’ He waited for a reply, but Prior remained obstinately silent. ‘You were back in the 13th CCS in April. This time unable to speak.’
    ‘I’ve told you, I don’t remember.’
    ‘So the loss of memory applies to the later part of your service in France, but the early part – the first six months or so – is comparatively clear?’
    ‘Ye-es.’
    Rivers sat back in his chair. ‘Would