But her heart sank when she heard a woman’s voice. Her mother. ‘Ashling love, we were wondering how your launch went and I rang you at work. They said you were out. What’s wrong, are you sick?’

‘No.’

‘What then?’

‘I’m…’ Ashling hovered over the taboo word, then gave in, feeling both fear and relief. ‘I’m depressed.’

Monica knew immediately that this was not a simple case of ‘I’m depressed because I forgot to record Friends last night.’ Ashling had taken great care never, ever to use the word depression with regard to herself. This was serious. History repeating itself.

‘My boyfriend got off with Clodagh,’ Ashling explained weakly.

‘Clodagh Nugent?’ Monica sounded furious.

‘She’s been Clodagh Kelly for the past ten years. But anyway, it’s more than just that.’

Monica considered anxiously. ‘How bad are you?’

‘I’m in bed. It’s my fifth day. I have no immediate plans to leave.’

‘Eating?’

‘Nope.’

‘Washing?’

‘Nope.’

‘Suicidal thoughts?’

‘Not yet.’ Goody, she had that to look forward to.

‘I’ll get the train up tomorrow morning, love, and I’ll mind you for a while.’

Monica waited to be told to fuck off, as usual. But instead all she got was a weary, ‘Fine.’ Fear clutched its cold hand around her heart. Ashling must be very bad indeed.

‘Don’t worry, love, we’re going to get help for you. I won’t let you go through what I went through,’ Monica promised vehemently. ‘Nowadays things are different.’

‘Less of a stigma,’ Ashling said through unresponsive lips.

‘Better drugs,’ Monica retorted.

Joy and Ted were trying to tempt Ashling with a fresh consignment of chocolate and magazines on Tuesday evening when her doorbell rang. They all froze.

For the first time in days, Ashling’s listless face became illuminated. ‘It might be Marcus!’

‘I’ll go and tell him to fuck off.’ Joy was already moving to the door.

‘No!’ Ashling said fiercely. ‘No. I want to talk to him.’

Within seconds Joy was back. ‘It’s not Marcus…’ she hissed.

Ashling immediately eddied back into the mire.

‘It’s Divine Jack.’

This bizarre visit jolted Ashling a little from her torpor. What did he want? To sack her for missing work?

‘Wash yourself, for Christ’s sake!’ Joy urged. ‘You smell dodgy.’

‘I can’t,’ Ashling said heavily. So heavily that Joy knew she was wasting her time. As a compromise she insisted that Ashling put on a clean pair of pyjamas, comb her hair and brush her teeth. Then Joy considered two bottles of perfume. ‘Happy or Oui? Happy,’ she decided. ‘Let’s try the power of suggestion.’ She drenched Ashling in a haze of Happy then pushed her, as though she was a wind-up toy, in the direction of the living-room. ‘Off you go.’

Jack was on her blue sofa, his hands hanging between his knees. It was the weirdest sight. Depressed as she was, that thought burrowed through her stupor. He belonged to the world of work, yet here he was, making her flat look even smaller than it already was.

His dark suit, messy hair and askew tie gave him the aspect of a careworn and distracted man. She hovered in the doorway, watching him exchange thoughts with her maple laminate floor. Then he cocked his head to one side, saw her and smiled.

The light in the room changed as he stood up.

‘Hi,’ Ashling said. ‘I’m sorry for missing today and yesterday.’

‘I only came to see how you are, not to hustle you back to work.’

Then Ashling remembered. Jack had been unexpectedly gentle and kind after Dylan had delivered his terrible news.

‘I’ll try and come in tomorrow,’ she offered. There was as much chance that she’d climb Kilimanjaro.

‘Why don’t you take the week?’ he suggested. ‘Try and come back on Monday?’

‘OK. Thanks.’ The relief that she didn’t have to attempt to face the world was so great that she didn’t even argue. ‘My mother is coming to stay for a few days. If anything will drive me back to work, that will, I’m sure.’

‘Oh yes?’ Jack’s smile was empathetic. ‘You’ll have to tell me all about it sometime.’

‘Yes.’ She couldn’t imagine having the energy to even tell the time.

‘And how are you now?’ he asked.

She hesitated. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you discuss with your boss, but fuck it, what did it matter? What did anything matter? ‘I feel very sad.’

‘That’s to be expected. The end of a relationship, the loss of a friendship.’

‘But it’s more than that.’ She was trying to make sense of her overwhelming grief. ‘I feel a sadness about the whole world.’

She watched Jack. Did he think she was a nutter?

‘Go on,’ he urged gently.

‘All I can see is the sad stuff. And it’s everywhere. We’re the walking wounded, the entire human race.’

‘Weltschmerz,’ he said.

‘Bless you,’ she said absently.

‘No,’ he laughed softly. ‘Weltschmerz. It’s German for “world sadness”.’

‘There’s a word for this?’

She knew she wasn’t the first person to feel like this. She knew her mother had too. But if a word had actually been invented to describe the feeling, lots of others must have felt it. It was a comfort. Jack rustled a white paper bag. ‘I, ah, brought you something.’

‘What? Tissues? I could open a shop. Or grapes? I’m not sick. Just, just… humiliated.’

‘No, it’s… well, actually it’s sushi.’

She paused, stung. ‘Are you having a laugh?’

‘No! It’s just that you seemed interested when we got it in the office.’ When Ashling remained mute he laboured on, ‘I thought you might enjoy it. There’s nothing scary, not even raw fish. It’s mostly vegetarian – cucumber, avocado, a little bit of crab. A sushi-for-beginners kit. I could take you through it…’