Fortunately there were no crises at work. My clients turned up, went on training courses, and while no-one actually got a job, nobody did anything too obviously calculated to prevent themselves from being hired. Or got caught doing any new crimes.

Ana called me a couple of days after Sa’afia had gone. I’d dreaded that call, because I’d feared that she’d be cheerful, or suggest that other sexual and romantic possibilities were available to me. I wasn’t in the mood to hear anything of the kind.

I’d never lost the suspicion that Ana was at least partly responsible for Sa’afia’s sudden departure. Neither of them had ever explained what had happened on the night of the mysterious blow-job. Sa’afia had started that night happy, and finished it angry with me. But if Ana had had anything to do with that, it was Sa’afia who had brought her into my bed. So …

And that was all I ever learned. Nothing about it made sense. 

Ana kept herself on the right side of somber and sympathetic. I was grateful to her for that. But I wanted no consolation that she could give me.