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too, but then he sighed and came wearily round the foot of the bed to crouch beside me. “Matt,” he said, gesturing towards me with the shoes. “I know…I know all the shit you’ve been through. But you have got to stop making such heavy weather. I can’t keep up.”
    That seemed fair enough. I didn’t recall ever asking him to try, but I knew he’d assumed the duty with good intentions. “Okay,” I said, taking the shoes, setting them in a businesslike pair on the floor. Ready for anything, once I’d found some underpants. “Sorry. I’m guessing you’re not here to wake me up for work.”
    “Work? You’re fucking kidding me. If I had to come round here every time you missed a shift, I’d never be there myself…” He paused, brow furrowing in concern. “Matthew. It’s half nine at night, you dozy git. Friday night. My brother’s birthday if you recall him inviting you, same way he has every year since we were both about four years old. Get dressed.”
    I sprang out of bed. My legs instantly buckled, but I made a good save, grabbing the bedside table before I could go down. My hand closed round a plastic pill bottle, and memory returned, one big flash. The good young intern I had once been knew you could down a hell of a lot of sleepers without killing yourself, and I had taken—well, a hell of a lot. I’d just wanted to sleep, hadn’t I? Not even that—just not to be sentient for a while. I’d sat on the edge of the bed, a half-full bottle of milk in my hand. That must have rolled out of sight somewhere, or Lou would have been on it, just as he would this near-empty pill vial if I hadn’t knocked it label-down behind the alarm clock. Milk. Right. Whatever I’d been doing, I’d wanted the dose to stay down. I’d taken the hell of a lot you could without killing yourself, and then I’d grabbed a handful more.
    Fuck. I palmed the bottle, hauled myself upright and staggered into the bathroom before Lou could see the state of me. I leaned my palms on the sink and stared into the mirror without recognition.
    ***
    Lou’s brother’s party wasn’t too hard to endure. Some things in life were constant, and one of these was that every year, James would invite the same group of people to the same small pizza restaurant off the Bigg Market. It was nice. Joe and I had always enjoyed it. James was rather the star of Lou’s family, being straight and in the possession of legitimate children. But their parents, if set in their ways, were good people. Growing up, I’d spent at least as much time in their kitchen and back garden as I had my own. Joe—unforgiven even though he’d finally seen the heterosexual light—had not been invited, and Mam and Dad McNally kept bestowing compassionate looks upon me from over the table.
    Ironically, this occasion was the first night when I could have handled Joe’s presence. Marnie’s too if James had wanted to extend the season of goodwill that far. I was numb from the skull-top down. When Lou, tiring of family bonhomie and tales of James’s promotions—I could have told him one straight accountant son was worth ten gay doctors—suggested in a whisper that we make our escape, I followed him wordlessly.
    To the Powerhouse, where because it was Friday night, not Saturday, I’d had no thought of seeing Aaron at the bar. But there he was, leaning casually, exchanging the odd word with the bartender. He looked less obviously fresh from the rigs than he had before, less…heavy-duty, I supposed, dazedly trying to define it as Lou towed me through the crowd. He was wearing a plain cotton shirt and looked probably as ordinary as he ever could. As if he’d dressed up—or down—for someone. I knew that had I been functional, the sight of him would have made me shudder with desire. As it was, I could barely stay on my feet, and I was almost glad the club was so packed he wouldn’t have seen me even if he had happened to look up.

Chapter Four
    To my surprise, Lou