‘What did you do before this?’ ‘I was married. Then I wasn’t married any more. Tipped up, flung out, recognise that?’ I did. ‘End of story. Gotta start again. Gotta be positive. Gotta move on. Don’t look back. No regrets.’ That’s how he said it. He said it like a mantra. I wonder how many times a day he had to say it to make it true? It was a poultice over his heart. I don’t know how to poultice my heart.
