It was a woman who had been told she was invited by a man who had told her six weeks earlier that they were finally divorced, walking into the house of his new wife, and who would rather be in a kitchen doing something with her hands than sitting in a room being looked at.
I asked her about the place cards.
And she said: “That one I did on purpose. I’m not going to pretend. I was being vile and you didn’t deserve it.”
And that was the whole apology and I have not had a better one from anybody in this.
And the fourteen, who I have been counting as an audience and who were people.
Two of them were his brothers. Four were from his work. There was a couple from the Thistle Row end who I had met twice. There was a woman of seventy-six called Edwina who is his godmother and who had come in a taxi.
