She was in the apartment when I came in. I did not expect her there. She walked up to me in the hall, saying something. She reached for me. Not looking at her, I asked her to let me go. She did. I walked to the bathroom, collected my few things, and stuffed them into my knapsack. She came up to me again. I pushed her away. “You are a nobody,” I said quietly. “You do not exist,” I meant. “You are dead,” I really meant. I walked toward the apartment door. I felt the keys in my pocket, pulled them out, and threw them on the floor. Bouncing off the carpet, they jangled. I walked out. The door slammed behind me. I ran down the stairs, taking two or three steps at a time. I hurried across the courtyard and out to the street. Then I walked to Paddington as fast as I could. As fast as I could.