The truth began to creep over her, and with it a chill.

At her front door he said, ‘I’ll take your folder with me. I like your ideas, and I think we’ve got a deal, but I’ll know more when I’ve read it again.’

‘You’ve got my number?’

‘I made sure I got it. Good night.’

He didn’t even try to kiss her.

Now she knew the truth.

When he didn’t call her, she understood why. As though she was inside his head, she followed his thoughts, his dread of getting too close to a blind woman, his common sense advice to himself to back off now, before it was too late.

‘They all do it,’ she mused to Wicksy as they took their final walk one evening. She sat on a bench beneath the trees and felt him press against her. ‘We’ve both known it to happen before. Remember Joe? You never liked him, did you? You tried to tell me that he wouldn’t last, and you were right.’

His nose was cold and comforting in her hand.

‘Men are scared to become involved with me in case it disrupts their pleasant lives, their successful careers.’

The nose nudged gently.

‘I know,’ she said sadly. ‘We can’t blame them, can we? And maybe it’s better for him to be honest and retreat now rather than later.’

Another soft nudge.

‘It’s just that I thought this time it might have been different. I thought he was different. But he isn’t.’

There was a whine from beside her knee, with a distant air of urgency.

‘What’s that? Oh, the biscuit. I’m sorry. I forgot. Here.’

She felt it vanish from her hand.

‘What would I do without you, my darling? You’ve got more sense than the rest of us put together. As long as I’ve got you, I don’t need anyone else.’

Celia leaned down and rested her cheek against his head, trying to take comfort from their loving companionship.