Sunday, May 18

This morning we both slept very late and breakfast was at 11:30. It was noticeably odd to sit down for breakfast with only the two of us.

I finished reading a copy of the New York Review of Books that Kalle had lent me, and now I have dropped it in their post box and continued walking. I am walking down Riskutie and the ruins catch my eye. They are oddly illuminated by the hot sun. In a few minutes I will pass a house where a couple are lying on sunbeds in tiny swimming costumes with a black and white cat on a lead tied to one of the beds. It is the cat that will first grab my attention, tugging at the end of its leash.

We will spend a couple of hours gardening. Irma will use the mower and the trimmer and I will clean up and do weeding. After this I will paint one of the outer doors white. This will require three coats of paint, and this will require Irma to go and get more paint.

At about 18:00 we will both be suddenly aware of the huge hole Auo’s death has torn in the fabric of our lives. A small remark will set off a spark and we will both be in tears for fifteen minutes. I will remember what I shouted in The Uppal in Delhi: it wasn’t supposed to be this way.

And it wasn’t.

Irma and Naa will talk on the phone. Naa is having a good time. I will have a shower. The cat will refuse to come in because the weather is so warm. We will go to bed early.

I will wake at 4:20 and decide to see if Sunshine is there. When I open the door it will race indoors, eat almost all the food in its bowl, climb on a bed and go to sleep immediately.

I will return to ed and go to sleep immediately too.