'Declan's in hospital. He's in St James's. He asked me to come out here and tell you.'

Helen stood up. 'I'm terribly sorry. I thought you were a teacher looking for a job.'

'No, I have a job, thanks.' It was his turn to be dry.

'Did he have an accident? I mean, is he OK?'

'No, he didn't have an accident, but he'd like to see you.'

'How long has he been in hospital? Sorry, what's your name again?'

'Paul.'

'Paul,' she said.

He hesitated. 'He said he'd like to see you. I don't know how you're fixed now, but I could drive you to St James's.'

'He wants to see me now? Hey, is this serious?'

Again he hesitated.

'I mean, is he all right?' she asked.

'I saw him this morning and he's in good form.'

'You don't sound very reassuring.'

It was when he did not reply to this that she stopped herself asking any more questions. She looked at her watch; it was ten-past one.

'I have a meeting in the Department of Education in Marlboro ugh Street at four.'

'If you come now you can be in Marlborough Street by four,' he said.

She realised that he was waiting for another question.

'Right. I'll come now,' she said. 'But it will take me a few minutes to get ready.'

Upstairs, as she changed into her navy-blue suit and white blouse – her nun's costume, Hugh called it – she went over what Paul had said and not said. It would have been easy for him to have said that it was just something minor. Even if he was an alarmist, someone who thrived on bad news, he could still have said something which would indicate that it was not serious. Maybe when he said that he had seen Declan that morning and he was in good form, maybe by this he meant to say that there was nothing wrong really. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror and put on a discreet amount of make-up. She felt a sudden urge or longing, which at first she could not identify, but then knew that it was an urge to be back in the house before Paul's arrival, to be back half an hour ago without his heavy, ominous presence in the room below.

She brushed her hair and checked herself in the full-length mirror and then, reluctantly, she went downstairs. As she saw him in the kitchen, she felt an intense hostility to him, which she knew she would have to keep under control.

She found her briefcase in the front room and emptied it of books, leaving only a notepad and some biros. She made sure that the downstairs windows were closed, turned on the answering machine, checked she had her keys and then told Paul she was ready.

They drove in silence through Rathfarnham and into Terenure. Helen knew that the next question she asked would elicit information which would leave her in no doubt.

'You'd better tell me what's wrong,' she said.

'Declan has AIDS. He's very sick. He sent me to tell you.'

Her first instinct was to run from the car, to watch for the next traffic lights and try to open the door and run to the pavement, and become the person entering a newsagent's shop or \a166waiting for a bus, become anyone but the person she "was now in the car.

'I'll pull in if you like,' Paul said.

'No, go on, I'll be OK,' she said. 'How long has he been sick?'

'He tested positive a good while ago, but he's only been sick the last two or three years, even though he's looked OK. He was very bad last year, but he pulled through. He has a line in his chest which gets infected, and he has problems with one eye and he gets chemo once a month. He's much weaker now than he was. He's very worried about your mother.'

'So he hasn't told her either?'

'No. He decided, or I don't know if "decided" is the word, to leave it all until the last minute.'

Once again, she was left feeling unable to face the answer to the next question she might ask. She wished she knew Paul better so she could judge whether he had used the phrase 'the last minute' casually or deliberately. She thought about it: everything else he said had been measured and deliberate; he would hardly have used a phrase like 'the last minute' without meaning to.

'Is he dying then?' she asked.

'It will be harder this time.'

'Has he been in hospital long?'

'On and off, but mostly he goes to the clinic'

'My mother told me he was busy.'

'He hasn't been working. Also he's been avoiding seeing you and your mother.'

'What's he been living on?'

'He has money saved, and he's been working on and off.'

'Does Declan have a boyfriend, you know, a partner?'

'No,' Paul said flatly.

'Has he been living alone?'

'No, he's been staying with friends. He's been travelling a bit. He went to Venice at Easter – two of us went with him – but he doesn't have much energy. He went to Paris for a weekend, but he got very sick there.'

'It must have been hard looking after him,' she said.

'No, it's hard now, because he's weaker and he hates being in hospital, but he is the best in the world.'

'And why didn't he tell us?'

They were stopped in traffic on Clanbrassil Street now. Paul glanced at her sharply.

'Because he couldn't face it.'

She realised from the way he spoke that he considered her an outsider, a remote figure who had to be brought into the picture. Declan, she thought, had replaced his family with his friends. She wished he had thought of her as a friend.

They said nothing as they drove along Thomas Street. She still could not figure Paul out – the mixture of the dry, factual tone and the something else, which was softer, more sympathetic. They passed the brewery and then turned left into the hospital grounds. He drove into a car park at the side.

'Does Declan have a doctor he sees all the time, or a consultant?' she asked as they walked towards one of the hospital buildings.

'Yeah, but I don't think she's here today.'

'She?'

'Yeah, Louise. She's the consultant.'

'Does Declan like her?'

'He likes her, she's a good person, but "like" isn't really the word.'

As they "walked into the reception hall she asked him what he did for a living.

'I work for the European Commission,' he said. 'I'm taking time off at the moment.'

This wing of the hospital was old, with high ceilings, shiny walls and echoing corridors. Paul led the "way without indicating how far they were from Declan's room. She did not know at what point he would turn and open a door and she would find Declan. It astonished her that less than an hour ago she was in her own house, undisturbed.

'Sorry, Paul.' She stopped him in the corridor. 'I have to ask you – are we talking about days, or weeks, or months? What are we talking about?'

'I don't know. It's hard to say.'

As they spoke, a young doctor in a white coat with a stethoscope around his neck came up to them.

'This is his sister,' Paul said. The doctor nodded into the distance.

'Don't go in for a while,' he said. He seemed distracted.

Helen looked at her watch; it was two o'clock.

'She has to go at half-three,' Paul said.

'I can always cancel the meeting,' she said.

'Hold on here,' the doctor said. 'I'll go in and look.' He walked down the corridor and quietly opened a door on the right.

'I have a name, you know,' she said to Paul.

'I'm sorry, I should have introduced you properly.'

'What does Declan want to do about my mother?' she asked.

'He wants you to tell her.'

Helen smiled sourly.

'I speak to her on the telephone sometimes, but I don't know exactly where she lives. I mean, I have her address, but I haven't been there. We don't get on.'

'I know all that,' Paul said impatiently. He sounded like someone chairing a meeting.

'And?' she asked.

'He wants you to go and tell her. You can have his car. It's in the car park. I have the keys.'

The doctor came back and beckoned them to come with him. 'He wants you both to go in at the same time,' he said.