Dr Carrassi, second-in-command in the Casualty Department, had killed off a 21-year-old girl with peritonitis by misdiagnosing it as period pains.

His lawyer-yours truly – got him off without the loss of a day’s work or a penny of his salary. It wasn’t a difficult case. The public prosecutor was an idiot and counsel for the family a terminal illiterate.

When he was acquitted, Carrassi gave me a hug. He had bad breath, he was sweating and he was under the impression that justice had been done.

Leaving the courtroom I avoided the eyes of the girl’s parents.

The bearded character left and I, choking down nausea, prepared the appeal against the confiscation of his precious meals-on-wheels.

Then I went home.

On Friday evenings we usually went to the cinema, followed by dinner in a restaurant, always with the same bunch of friends.

I never took any part in choosing the cinema or the restaurant. I did whatever Sara and the others decided and spent the evening in a state of suspended animation, waiting for it to end. Unless it turned out to be a film I really liked, but that happened increasingly rarely.

When I got home that evening Sara was already dressed to go out. I said I needed at least a quarter of an hour, just time for a shower and change of clothes.

Ah, she was going out with her own friends, was she? Which friends? The ones from the photography course. She might have told me earlier, and I’d have got myself organized. She’d told me the day before and it wasn’t her fault if I didn’t listen to what she said. Oh, all right, there’s no need to get in a huff. I’d have tried to arrange something for myself, if I’d had time. No, I had no intention of making her feel guilty, I only wanted to say just exactly what I had said. Very well, let’s just stop bickering.

She went out and I stayed at home. I thought of calling the usual friends and going out with them. Then it seemed to me absurdly difficult to explain why Sara wasn’t there and where she had gone, and I thought they would give me funny looks, so I dropped the idea.