“Look, Ray, just trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

EMILY WAS AT THE FLAT when we returned. I have to admit, I was taken aback at how much she’d aged. It wasn’t just that she’d got significantly heavier since my last visit: her face, once so effortlessly graceful, was now distinctly bull-doggy, with a displeased set to the mouth. She was sitting on the living-room sofa reading the Financial Times, and got up rather glumly as I came in.

“Nice to see you, Raymond,” she said, kissing me quickly on the cheek, then sitting down again. The whole way she did this made me want to blurt out a profuse apology for intruding at such a bad time. But before I could say anything, she thumped the space beside her on the sofa, saying: “Now, Raymond, sit down here and answer my questions. I want to know all about what you’ve been up to.”

I sat down and she began to interrogate me, much as Charlie had done in the restaurant. Charlie, meanwhile, was packing for his journey, drifting in and out of the room in search of various items. I noticed they didn’t look at each other, but neither did they seem so uncomfortable being in the same room, despite what he’d claimed. And although they never spoke directly to each other, Charlie kept joining in the conversation in an odd, once-removed manner. For instance, when I was explaining to Emily why it was so difficult to find a flat-mate to share my rent burden, Charlie shouted from the kitchen:

“The place he’s in, it’s just not geared up for two people! It’s for one person, and one person with a bit more money than he’ll ever have!”

Emily made no response to this, but must have absorbed the information, because she then went on: “Raymond, you should never have chosen an apartment like that.”

This sort of thing continued for at least the next twenty minutes, Charlie making his contributions from the stairs or as he passed through to the kitchen, usually by shouting out some statement that referred to me in the third person. At one point, Emily suddenly said:

“Oh, honestly Raymond. You let yourself be exploited left, right and centre by that ghastly language school, you let your landlord rip you off silly, and what do you do? Get in tow with some airhead girl with a drink problem and not even a job to support it. It’s like you’re deliberately trying to annoy anyone who still gives a shit about you!”

“He can’t expect many of that tribe to survive!” Charlie boomed from the hall. I could hear he had his suitcase out there now. “It’s all very well behaving like an adolescent ten years after you’ve ceased to be one. But to carry on like this when you’re nearly fifty!”

“I’m only forty-seven…”

“What do you mean, you’re only forty-seven?” Emily’s voice was unnecessarily loud given I was sitting right next to her. “Only forty-seven. This ‘only,’ this is what’s destroying your life, Raymond. Only, only, only. Only doing my best. Only forty-seven. Soon you’ll be only sixty-seven and only going round in bloody circles trying to find a bloody roof to keep over your head!”

“He needs to get his bloody arse together!” Charlie yelled down the staircase. “Fucking well pull his socks up till they’re touching his fucking balls!”

“Raymond, don’t you ever stop and ask yourself who you are?” Emily asked. “When you think of all your potential, aren’t you ashamed? Look at how you lead your life! It’s… it’s simply infuriating! One gets so exasperated!”

Charlie appeared in the doorway in his raincoat, and for a moment they were shouting different things at me simultaneously. Then Charlie broke off, announced he was leaving-as though in disgust at me-and vanished.

His departure brought Emily’s diatribe to a halt, and I took the opportunity to get to my feet, saying: “Excuse me, I’ll just go and give Charlie a hand with his luggage.”

“Why do I need help with my luggage?” Charlie said from the hall. “I’ve only got the one bag.”

But he let me follow him down into the street and left me with the suitcase while he went to the edge of the kerb to hail a cab. There didn’t seem to be any to hand, and he leaned out worriedly, an arm half-raised.

I went up to him and said: “Charlie, I don’t think it’s going to work.”

“What’s not going to work?”

“Emily absolutely hates me. That’s her after seeing me for a few minutes. What’s she going to be like after three days? Why on earth do you think you’ll come back to harmony and light?”

Even as I was saying this, something was dawning on me and I fell silent. Noticing the change, Charlie turned and looked at me carefully.

“I think,” I said, eventually, “I have an idea why it had to be me and no one else.”

“Ah ha. Can it be Ray sees the light?”

“Yes, maybe I do.”

“But what does it matter? It remains the same, exactly the same, what I’m asking you to do.” Now there were tears in his eyes again. “Do you remember, Ray, the way Emily always used to say she believed in me? She said it for years and years. I believe in you, Charlie, you can go all the way, you’re really talented. Right up until three, four years ago, she was still saying it. Do you know how trying that got? I was doing all right. I am doing all right. Perfectly okay. But she thought I was destined for… God knows, president of the fucking world, God knows! I’m just an ordinary bloke who’s doing all right. But she doesn’t see that. That’s at the heart of it, at the heart of everything that’s gone wrong.”

He began to walk slowly along the pavement, very preoccupied. I hurried back to get his suitcase and began pulling it along on its rollers. The street was still fairly crowded, so it was a struggle to keep up with him without crashing the bag into other pedestrians. But Charlie kept walking at a steady pace, oblivious to my difficulties.

“She thinks I’ve let myself down,” he was saying. “But I haven’t. I’m doing perfectly okay. Endless horizons are all very well when you’re young. But get to our age, you’ve got to… you’ve got to get some perspective. That’s what kept going round in my head whenever she got unbearable about it. Perspective, she needs perspective. And I kept saying to myself, look, I’m doing okay. Look at loads of other people, people we know. Look at Ray. Look what a pig’s arse he’s making of his life. She needs perspective.”

“So you decided to invite me for a visit. To be Mr. Perspective.”

At last, Charlie stopped and met my eye. “Don’t get me wrong, Ray. I’m not saying you’re an awful failure or anything. I realise you’re not a drug addict or a murderer. But beside me, let’s face it, you don’t look the highest of achievers. That’s why I’m asking you, asking you to do this for me. Things are on their last legs with us, I’m desperate, I need you to help. And what am I asking, for God’s sake? Just that you be your usual sweet self. Nothing more, nothing less. Just do it for me, Raymond. For me and Emily. It’s not over between us yet, I know it isn’t. Just be yourself for a few days until I get back. That’s not so much to ask, is it?”

I took a deep breath and said: “Okay, okay, if you think it’ll help. But isn’t Emily going to see through all this sooner or later?”

“Why should she? She knows I’ve got an important meeting in Frankfurt. To her the whole thing’s straightforward. She’s just looking after a guest, that’s all. She likes to do that and she likes you. Look, a taxi.” He waved frantically and as the driver came towards us, he grasped my arm. “Thanks, Ray. You’ll swing it for us, I know you will.”

I RETURNED TO FIND Emily’s manner had undergone a complete transformation. She welcomed me into the apartment the way she might a very aged and frail relative. There were encouraging smiles, gentle touches on the arm. When I agreed to some tea, she led me into the kitchen, sat me down at the table, then for a few seconds stood there regarding me with a concerned expression. Eventually she said, softly: