Two years passed, the Falklands War was fought and won, somewhere, beyond most people’s awareness, the foundations of the Internet were laid, Mrs Thatcher and her party won a 144-seat majority in Parliament. Roland turned thirty-five. He had one poem published in the Wisconsin Review and was making an adequate living, writing pieces for in-flight magazines. His life as a patient serial monogamist continued. He remained privately fixated on a life he knew he would never have.
