THE FIRST CUT IS THE DEEPEST

I don’t know what Wilson and Nërp discussed – neither of them is willing to discuss it – although the following day, Wilson did seem a tad brighter.

Today, though, he appears to have relapsed a little. 

I came across him sitting in the living room with the curtains drawn, quietly singing The First Cut Is The Deepest to himself…

I asked him if he was okay. ‘Yes,’ he sighed, ‘I’m fine…’

But it was obvious he was not fine –  he was clearly some distance from fine. 

I decided to play my Trump Card – the thing that never fails to cheer W up!

‘Do you feel like a holiday?’ I asked.

He fidgeted in his seat for a moment, and replied, ‘Okay. If you like.’

This was not the response I had been expecting.

Or hoping for…