He had got up at six, having hardly slept. He was so charged up with nerves that he knew he would need time to steady himself for the day to come. Creeping down to the kitchen he had put the kettle on and sat sipping scalding tea, hoping it would take away the queasiness, but he had had to hurry out to the lav, downstairs at the back, and only just made it. He flushed the lavatory and washed his mouth out over the basin. For a moment he leaned against the wall, breathing hard. A chill spread through him, but at the same time he could feel that his new shirt was already clammy with sweat. I can’t do it, he thought, staring at the tooth-coloured enamel of the basin. All these years he had led a protected life, surrounded by family or Carlson House. Today he was expected to venture out into the world, to travel right across town and start work. A proper job. What if he couldn’t manage any of it? But his next thought was, I’ve got to. What else am I going to do?
