It is fair to say that the first couple of weeks of Gene’s stay are not an unqualified success. He sleeps late and rises like a bear out of hibernation, crashing into furniture and leaving wet towels and coffee spills in his wake. He seems incapable of looking after himself, beyond basic hygiene, and that is variable. He lives off coffee and cigarettes, cookies and potato chips. She has explained the washing-machine to him three times and every time he says, “Yes, yes, sweetheart, got it,” then boils his T-shirts into children’s sizes, or somehow manages to miss the spin cycle completely.
