I’m at James’. James looks tired and sad. He said he was angry about losing his job. He didn’t feel it was just. He’d made a mistake. The people on the board were horrible, really cutthroat. He’d made a difference and things were on the right track. The HR manager shed a tear, another said that he had changed his life for the better. James had nurtured the staff, the ones he didn’t sack. It had been very stressful for him. For the first time I felt sorry for him. He doesn’t sleep well.
Circe was edgy. I said that I had meant to ask her about her shoulder. ‘You’ve only just arrived " how could you have asked me sooner?’ ‘When I saw you at the Van Gogh exhibition,’ I said. I was surprised by her aggression. The problem is that her shoulder is worse than it was before the operation. She’s fed up. And she went on again about Apple.
The sun was sinking, putting gold into everything we saw. The pool shimmered before us. James put chemicals in. ‘My pool man,’ Circe quipped behind her large sunglasses. I felt like a fat dumpling sitting there helpless between them.