Chapter Seventeen
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Someone was hammering on the front door. Ottilie squinted as Heath bolted up and turned on the lamp.
‘What the hell? What time…It’s two in the morning!’
He threw the covers back, then yanked a shirt and trousers from where they were draped over a chair and stamped onto the landing. Ottilie grabbed a dressing gown and followed him.
Heath opened the front door a crack, and as he did, it was pushed open from the other side. Melanie stepped into the hallway. Ottilie could smell alcohol on her breath, even from where she was behind Heath.
‘Where is she?’
‘Melanie,’ Heath began. ‘What the hell?—’
‘Where is she? That stupid little cow, Fion; I want to talk to her.’
Ottilie stepped forward and tried to stop Melanie from going down the hall to the kitchen. Though it was only a gentle hand to her chest, Melanie slapped it away and glared at her.
‘Where is she?’
‘You can’t come in now,’ Ottilie said. ‘It’s the middle of the night.’
‘Come back tomorrow when you’ve sobered up,’ Heath added.
‘Don’t tell me what to do!’
‘I’ll tell you what I like in my own house,’ Heath said with a calmness that Ottilie was proud of. He didn’t always know when to hold his temper, especially in a situation like this, but this time he could clearly see what Ottilie could also see. Melanie wasn’t acting like someone in her rational mind. She’d been drinking, and something upsetting was at the root of that. Something that involved Fion, and it didn’t take a genius to finally confirm what Ottilie had been fearing since the day Fion had met Damien. Dealing with Melanie now required patience. It wouldn’t do any good to meet her aggression with more of the same.
‘How did you get here?’ Ottilie asked, peering around the front door to see Melanie’s car outside on the road. ‘Ah. You drove?’
‘How else was I going to get down here?’
Ottilie and Heath exchanged a glance. Melanie was lucky to be down here in one piece. Her journey could easily have ended in a tipped-up car on the hillside rather than in their hallway now. Someone would have to drive her back up there.
‘I’ll take you home,’ he said.
‘Don’t want to go,’ Melanie slurred, trying to get past Ottilie again.
‘You have to.’
‘I want to see her !’
Ottilie let out a groan as Fion’s voice came from the top of the stairs.
‘Ottilie…? What’s?—’
‘You!’ Melanie hissed.
‘Go back to bed, Fion,’ Heath told her.
‘No,’ Melanie shouted. ‘I want to talk to you! He says he’s leaving me! He says he wants to be with you! Why? What does he see in a ratty little runt like?—?’
‘Hey!’ Heath snapped. ‘Enough of the personal stuff! Coming here to talk is one thing; coming here in the middle of the night is out of order, and insulting Fion is something else again. Keep it civil or we will throw you out and call the police.’
Melanie turned to him, her eyes swimming. ‘Why?’
She might have been questioning any number of things.
Ottilie turned to Heath and spoke in a low voice. ‘Maybe we ought to make her a coffee and see what we can do?’
‘What can we do?’
‘I don’t know, but we can at least sober her up before we take her home. We might even get some sense out of her.’
Heath glanced up the stairs, to where Fion stood anxiously gripping the balustrade and watching the drama below. ‘I think we both know what’s been going on. I don’t think we need Melanie to explain it to us.’
‘Still, it would be better to calm her down a bit. For a start, if she’s all over the place like this, she might endanger whoever is driving her home.
‘Melanie…’ She beckoned as she made her way down the hall to the kitchen. ‘Come through. I’ll make a coffee, and you can get everything off your chest.’
‘Get her down!’ Melanie said, glaring up at Fion, who was still hovering and seemed to be deciding whether her presence downstairs would make things better or worse.
‘She’ll come when you calm down,’ Ottilie said. ‘So it’s up to you if you see her or not.’
Melanie made to climb the stairs. Heath looked as if he might make a grab to stop her, but Ottilie took Melanie firmly by the arm and led her to the kitchen. ‘It’s this way: Heath will go and get Fion once you’re sitting down and drinking your coffee.’
If Melanie didn’t calm down, Ottilie had no intention of letting Fion anywhere near the kitchen. She gestured to Heath. ‘Go and tell her not to come down until we say so,’ she said in a low voice as she herded Melanie down the hallway.
Heath went to speak to Fion while she filled the kettle. When she turned around again, Melanie was staring at her.
‘ You started this.’
‘How did I start it?’ Ottilie said, doing her best to clear away some cutlery which had been left on the draining board without being too obvious about it. She didn’t want any sharp implements within reach, given Melanie’s current mood.
‘You brought her here. We were all right before that. We were working on things.’
Ottilie dropped the knives into the drawer and moved in front of it to close it with her backside. ‘You and Damien?’
‘We’d have worked things out.’
‘What has he told you? You said you’d spoken to him. Tonight? He was at the pub, wasn’t he? You didn’t go?’ Ottilie glanced towards the door at the sight of Heath coming into the kitchen. He nodded once, and she took that to mean he’d convinced Fion to stay out of the way for now.
‘I don’t know where he was. He said it was a work thing. They were going to sort out some process or other. I knew it was weird to be going out in the evening to do that.’
‘Why didn’t you go with them?’
‘He said I didn’t need to.’
At Heath’s wordless behest, Ottilie went to sit at the table with Melanie while he took over making the coffee.
‘You weren’t tempted to insist?’ she asked as she took a seat.
‘Yes.’ Melanie laid her arms out on the table and flopped onto them. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’
‘Melanie…’ Ottilie asked gently. ‘Are you on medication?’
‘What?’
‘Are you taking something? I’m worried if you’re drinking while you’re on tablets where you’re not meant to drink.’
‘I’m not drunk.’
‘That’s not what I was saying. I don’t want anything bad to happen.’
‘I might die?’ Melanie lifted her head and blew out a laugh. ‘That’d be funny, wouldn’t it?’
‘Not for us it wouldn’t,’ Heath cut in as he poured boiling water into a mug. Ottilie frowned at him, and he shrugged. ‘Just saying.’
‘There might be a reaction,’ Ottilie continued. ‘What’s your prescription for?’
‘I don’t know. Some nutty pills or other. Something maxymaxymaxy… tron, thon, ethylate…nobody can ever say those names.’
Ottilie mentally ran through a list of what she thought Melanie’s medication was likely to be. It didn’t make her feel any easier, but as the drinking had clearly already occurred, all she could do now was keep a close eye on her condition. ‘OK,’ she said, nodding thanks as Heath put a coffee down and then sat next to her. ‘It doesn’t matter for now. Do you want to talk about what happened with Damien?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
Heath butted in again. ‘What are you here for if you don’t want to talk?’ Ottilie shot him another warning glance. When he spoke again, it was aimed at Ottilie. ‘When she got here, she wanted to talk to—I mean, she said she wanted to talk, and now she doesn’t.’
Ottilie rolled her eyes at him before turning back to Melanie, who had her head on the table again and didn’t seem to be taking any notice of their exchange. She was very drunk and now seemed groggy with it. She wondered whether to phone Simon or Fliss to get some advice, but she didn’t want to do that unless she really had to. Either would come over in a flash, but she’d feel terrible waking them for nothing. She gently nudged Melanie. ‘Drink some of your coffee. You’ll feel better.’
Melanie didn’t respond and so Ottilie nudged harder. ‘Are you all right?’
An incomprehensible mumble came in return. Ottilie looked up at Heath.
‘I think the only thing we can do is take her home,’ he said.
‘I don’t like that idea.’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m worried. She’s had too much to drink and she’s on some pills, and I don’t know what they are or how they’re mixing with the booze.’
‘She won’t be on her own. Damien is there to keep an eye on her.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Ottilie said in a withering tone. ‘Because he’s exactly who she needs right now.’
‘Look at her!’ Heath flung a hand at the seemingly unconscious Melanie, head and arms sprawled across the table. ‘She won’t notice who’s there. Let’s take her home to sleep it off. Damien can phone for an ambulance if anything happens. Ott, you can’t be on duty all the time, and it’s not your responsibility to keep everyone from harm.’
‘It is, actually,’ Ottilie snapped. She didn’t like the way Heath was trying to palm this off. Melanie was there, in front of them, clearly in need of help. ‘I made a promise when I qualified as a nurse.’ Then she let out a sigh. ‘Sorry, I’m tired and I’m stressed about this. I know you’re only trying to find the best solution – I’m just not sure that’s it.’
‘I’m not sure there’s any other,’ Heath said. ‘If it makes you feel happier, take her back now, wake Damien, explain what the problem is, make sure he knows to keep an eye on her and then go up there tomorrow when you have a minute to see how things are.’
‘We’re meant to simply drop her off and not discuss any of the other stuff with Damien? Knowing what we know?’
‘It’s none of our business. Melanie being here now is, but not that.’
‘That’s the thing – I think it will become our business.’
‘Their marriage isn’t. Even if the stuff about him and Fion is true, they’re both adults, so I don’t see how that is either.’
Ottilie nodded slowly. She was too tired to argue, but she still thought he was wrong. If Damien and Fion were having an affair, then it would become their business. They’d be dragged into the slipstream whether they liked it or not, no matter how much distance they tried to create. Melanie was right about one thing – Ottilie had brought Fion to Thimblebury. She’d introduced her to Damien. She’d worked hard to get Fion a job with him. And while all those things had been done with the best of intentions, what had followed was as a direct result of her meddling. If Melanie and Damien’s marriage was in trouble and Fion was a part of that, Ottilie couldn’t help but feel that she was a part of it too, however indirectly. And so it was her job to do what she could for everyone involved, to try and smooth it over.
‘Look at her,’ Heath repeated, breaking into her thoughts. ‘She’s nowhere. It’s pointless trying to get any sense out of her. While she’s calm let’s take her home.’
‘Maybe we should take her to Daffodil Farm?’
‘Wake Victor and Corrine for this?’ Heath shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t thank you if I was Victor. Who wants to see their daughter in this state?’
‘I’m sure they’d rather see her safe, whatever state.’
‘Damien will do that. The guy might have slipped up – and we don’t know exactly what’s happened yet – but he’s not a monster. She’ll be fine with him.’
Ottilie paused, but then she looked again at Melanie and she was forced to agree. It wasn’t ideal, and she was far from happy with the plan, but for all the reasons they’d just covered, there wasn’t much else they could do.
‘Come on then,’ he said, getting up. ‘Let’s get her to the car before she comes round and starts swinging for you again.’
Ottilie’s smile for him was bleak. Perhaps, one day in the future, they might look back at this and see some humour in it, but she couldn’t see that day right now.
Ottilie couldn’t decide if it was good or not that Melanie had been out cold for the duration of their journey to take her home. She’d checked her over more than once, and though she’d been satisfied that she was only sleeping off the effects of her booze, niggling doubts had plagued her all the way back to Wordsworth Cottage. Neither of them had quizzed Damien on what had made her come down, all guns blazing, for Fion, though he’d looked guilty enough as he’d thanked them.
In the car once they’d left, Heath made his disapproval clear. ‘He didn’t even have the decency to get off his backside and find out where Melanie was. He knew she was missing and why. She could have been anywhere. Whatever had happened between them, he might have made an effort to make sure she was safe.’
‘We don’t know that he didn’t try to find her,’ Ottilie said, rubbing her eyes. ‘And we don’t know how often she does this sort of thing. It might be a regular event.’
‘What, for him to tell her he’s having an affair?’
‘No, but when they argue, she might make a habit of running off. I suppose if she does it a lot, he’s used to it and he doesn’t wonder where she is. She might usually sulk somewhere before she comes back.’
‘I don’t think that’s likely.’
‘You don’t know.’
‘How do you always want to see the good in people?’
‘It’s not often there isn’t any good to be found. And when you think someone is neglecting someone else, it’s not often as straightforward as it looks from the outside.’
‘Well, that’s good because this whole thing isn’t painting him in a good light from where I’m looking. It’s not exactly doing a lot for your sister either, for that matter.’
‘I know,’ Ottilie said. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was forced to agree that Fion had some explaining to do. She was also forced to recognise that this was only the beginning. This situation wasn’t about to go away, just because they’d dropped Melanie off at home to sober up. The situation would get far more difficult before it was resolved – if it was ever resolved. ‘I wonder if Fion is still up.’
‘She’ll be up,’ Heath said as he took a bend in the road with more speed than Ottilie would have liked. She wasn’t about to say so. He was as tired as she was, probably tetchier than he was letting on, and the last thing she wanted was for them to have an argument on top of everything else. ‘We’ll have to talk to her – we can’t leave it.’
‘I’ll talk to her. If she’s up, I’ll do it tonight. If not, I’ll try to catch her tomorrow, somehow.’
‘You’ll be at work by the time she wakes.’
Ottilie turned to him. ‘Do you think she’ll go to work tomorrow?’
‘How should I know? I think she’s an idiot if she does. I think the best thing now is for her to quit.’
‘That’s what I thought. It’ll be difficult for her to carry on working for him now.’
‘Do you think she’ll want to?’
‘The only way to know is to ask her.’
‘Ott…’ Heath began slowly.
There was a pause, too long for her liking.
‘What?’
‘Do you think she can even carry on living with you? If this is going to be?—’
‘It wasn’t her fault.’
‘It wasn’t ours, but we’re still clearing up the mess. It must have crossed your mind that if things escalate, we’re going to have a lot of trouble landing on the doorstep.’
‘We can handle Melanie. I’ll talk to her.’
‘It might not only be her.’
‘Who else would it be?’
‘I can’t say Victor and Corrine will be pleased if this gets back to them. They’re your friends. Do you want to fall out with them?’
‘We won’t fall out – they’re both too sensible for that.’
‘But you might end up being forced to take sides. They’re going to side with their daughter every time, and you’re going to side with your sister, and if Damien and Fion insist on continuing with?—’
‘It won’t come to that,’ Ottilie insisted, though she was far from convinced. ‘I’m not going to ask Fion to leave just in case some of my neighbours are annoyed with her.’
‘It’s up to you, but I’d at least put it to her that it might be sensible for her to go back to Penrith if she does want to continue her relationship with Damien. I wish them all the luck in the world if this is for real between them and it will survive her moving back to her parents, but if it’s not…’
‘We don’t know what it is right now.’ Ottilie closed her eyes and rubbed her fingers over her temples. ‘There’s no point in talking about any of this until we know how serious things are.’
‘How old is he?’ Heath asked.
‘I don’t know. I think he’s about thirty-five, thirty-six or something.’
‘Old enough to know better.’
‘She’s not a child,’ Ottilie said. ‘She’s old enough to decide what she wants.’
‘But still younger than him.’
‘She’s an adult,’ Ottilie repeated. ‘We can’t tell her what to do.’
‘Can’t we? When it interferes with our lives? We can tell her to leave if she’s going to bring trouble to our doorstep.’
‘Heath,’ she said, holding on to every ounce of patience she still had left. ‘Wordsworth is my house. I decide who lives there.’
He was silent. She gazed out onto hedgerows where she could make out only the barest of details, bathed white in the glow of their headlights. When he spoke again, she could hear resentment in his tone. She hadn’t wanted this problem to spill out into an argument with him, but she sensed one coming anyway.
‘Right. I see how it is. I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.’
‘Cleared what up?’
‘It’s your house. It will always be your house, and here was me thinking we’d been planning to make it our home. What an idiot, eh?’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘Isn’t it? Sounds that way to me.’
‘I only meant I can’t just throw Fion out, not after I asked her to live with me.’
‘I had thoughts back then, but you wouldn’t listen.’
‘Heath, don’t. She’s been great to have around, no trouble?—’
‘No trouble? What do you call tonight? What would you have done if I hadn’t been here?’
‘I’d have managed. I’m not totally helpless.’
‘You wouldn’t have been safe – either of you.’
‘Ah, so that little misogynist who hides in your brain has decided to come out to play. I thought I hadn’t seen him for a while.’
‘Tell me I’m wrong!’
‘I don’t have to tell you anything!’
‘No because thankfully we’ll never find out. I don’t want a rerun. If I have to be the sensible adult in the room, then I’m going to say that if Fion stays, you might get a rerun and it might not end so tidily.’
‘What does that mean? What could Melanie possibly do that’s so bad?’
‘I don’t know, but she’s obviously not right in the head!’
‘Congratulations, Freud, on another textbook diagnosis. How do you do it?’
‘Snipe all you want, but you know it as well as I do.’
‘I don’t know anything.’
‘Then why were you asking her about medication?’
‘You think the only sort of medication that exists is for mental illness?’
‘Of course not, but I think that’s what she’s on. You must know.’
‘How would I know?’
‘You work at the surgery.’
‘Yes, but I don’t know the details of every consultation that goes on there!’
He didn’t reply. In the gloom of the car interior, she could make out the shadow of his chin, his mouth set in a hard line. He was angry. So was she, and she didn’t see why she ought to back down this time.
‘Do you want me to go home?’ he asked after a few excruciating minutes.
‘Tonight? Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I’m just checking. It’s your house, after all; I wouldn’t want to outstay my welcome.’
‘Now you’re being childish. I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.’
‘I don’t know how you meant it. I only know what you said. How else am I supposed to interpret it?’
‘I don’t want you to go home, and I want you to treat Wordsworth as your home too – of course I do. But I can’t throw Fion out. I won’t throw her out.’
‘Yes, you’ve made that clear. But we’re going to have to talk to her. If she wants to stay, then she’s going to have to end this business with Damien.’
‘We’re going around in circles, aren’t we? I’m not going to ask her to leave, and I’m not going to tell her who she can and can’t see. That’s my final word on it.’
‘You’re taking her side?’
‘Over what?’
‘Mine.’
‘There is no side! Heath, stop it now. I’m tired and my head is swimming, and I don’t want to have this conversation any longer.’
‘I only?—’
‘Please. I’ve got enough to think about as it is.’
‘Fine,’ he said, in a tone that suggested he was anything but.
Ottilie closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat. She’d talk to Fion. She might even suggest her moving back to Penrith or ending things with Damien, but not because Heath said so. She’d suggest those things only if they seemed like the best course of action once she’d established the facts. And while she wanted Heath to treat Wordsworth Cottage like home, it was her house. She’d bought it from the money Josh had left to her. Viewed that way, it was more than bricks and mortar; it was a part of Josh, a part of her, a reminder of a life she’d once had, and no matter how much she loved Heath, no matter what their future held, she would always treasure those years. Wordsworth Cottage was far more than a house to her. It was her safety net, her security, her sanctuary. It was her insurance in case the future she was planning with Heath didn’t work out. It was hers no matter who else lived there with her. She’d said this to him once before and she couldn’t understand now why he found the notion so upsetting.
‘Ottilie.’
She opened her eyes to see that Heath was slowing down. There was a light on in one of the upstairs windows of Wordsworth Cottage. It looked as if Fion was up. She drew in a weary breath. She was too tired for this conversation, and yet she knew Heath wouldn’t be able to rest until they’d had it, not now they knew Fion was awake. She looked across at Heath to see that he seemed calmer.
‘I’m sorry we argued.’
‘Me too,’ he said stiffly. He was calmer, but he hadn’t quite forgotten what they’d said. What she had said. She wasn’t going to backtrack, but she’d have to make it up to him when things were more settled.
Fion was at the top of the stairs as Ottilie stepped into the hallway.
‘Did she get home OK?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Ottilie said. ‘We left her with Damien.’
Heath followed Ottilie inside and then shut the front door. He looked up at Fion and then at Ottilie.
‘I know,’ she said in reply to his unspoken question. She stood at the bottom of the stairs and called up. ‘You know we’re going to have to talk about this.’
‘Now?’
‘We’re all still up, and I don’t see any of us getting much sleep tonight. Do you? As far as I can see, we might as well get it out of the way.’
Getting it out of the way implied that there would be one discussion of the matter and that would be the end of it. But Ottilie wasn’t stupid enough to think that was likely. Fion hesitated, her hands wrapped around the balustrade. But then she nodded and came down.
They all moved into the living room. Heath offered to make drinks, but neither Ottilie nor Fion wanted one. All Ottilie wanted was to hear Fion’s side of things, hoping that what she heard would make it easy to forgive the trouble she and Damien had caused. She and Heath sat on the sofa, with Fion on the armchair across from them, fingers knotted together as she pressed her hands between her knees.
‘I’m really sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know any of this was going to happen.’
‘Melanie says Damien has come clean, that you’re having an affair.’
‘That makes it sound seedy, and it’s not like that at all. We’re in love.’
‘In love?’ Heath said, his derisive tone barely disguised. ‘You’ve known each other ten minutes.’
‘We are,’ Fion insisted. ‘It doesn’t matter how long we’ve known each other.’
‘He’s a lot older than you.’
‘That doesn’t matter. We get on, we’ve got lots in common. I’m not a baby.’
Ottilie shot a look of warning at Heath. She’d told him not to patronise her.
‘How serious is it?’ Ottilie asked. ‘You have my full support if this is something meaningful. But there are lives that stand to be ruined – not least yours – if this is only messing around. I want to know it’s worth standing by you when the backlash comes…and it will come. It’s only a matter of time.’
‘You should want to stand by me anyway.’
‘I do want to; you’re my sister. In the same way, if I’m going to stick my neck out for you, then you should want it to be for something worthwhile. You’re telling me you’re in love with him. He definitely feels the same?’
‘Yes.’
‘Only that wasn’t the impression we got when we dropped Melanie at home just now.’
Fion’s forehead creased into a deep frown. ‘What did you expect him to say? You’d just taken Melanie home in a mess. Even I wouldn’t expect him to tell you a thing like that in front of her.’
‘I suppose you’ve got a point,’ Ottilie said. ‘So what’s next?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t know he was going to tell her about us tonight – I don’t know why he did that. It wasn’t the plan. We were going to wait until the right moment.’
‘I don’t think there could ever be a right moment for news like that,’ Ottilie said. ‘I suppose he must have come to the same conclusion. Something happened after he dropped you here and went home, presumably, that made him come clean. You had no clue he might do this?’
‘No. When I left him, we’d decided we were going to talk some more and work out what was the best way of doing it before he told her.’
Ottilie was thoughtful as she glanced at Heath. She had no doubt Fion was telling the truth. Whatever had prompted Damien to break the news as soon as he’d got home didn’t matter. The fact was, the genie was out of the bottle and there was no way it was going back in now. What they had to figure out was how they handled it – though Ottilie didn’t have a clue what to think about that either. Was there a way to handle a situation like this? Or would they all simply have to weather the storm that was coming?
Heath spoke into the gap. ‘Are you going to carry on working for him?’
Fion’s fingers knotted tighter together. She hunched forward with a helpless shrug. ‘Do you think I should quit?’
‘I don’t know how you’re meant to show your face up there after tonight.’
‘Then I won’t have a job and he’ll have nobody to help him. He’s got orders. How’s he going to get them out?’
‘He should have thought about that before he went?—’
‘Heath,’ Ottilie cut in. ‘I’m sure neither of them planned things to go this way. Fion’s got a point. He’s got a business to run whatever else is happening. His marriage is on the brink; surely you wouldn’t want to see his livelihood go down too? I think that’s a punishment too far.’
‘Of course I don’t,’ Heath said. ‘I’ve got nothing personal against the guy, but I don’t see how Fion can go back up there like nothing has happened.’
Ottilie turned to Fion. ‘Why don’t you call him tomorrow and see how things are up there?’
‘I suppose I could do that. Could you go and talk to them?’
Ottilie shook her head. ‘I don’t think that would necessarily help. I do want to see how Melanie is doing, but I don’t think I should get involved in what’s going on with you, Damien and her. Sorry.’
Fion stared into space. ‘OK,’ she said finally. ‘I’ll message him. I suppose Melanie might be all right tomorrow. She might have had time to get used to what he’s told her.’
Ottilie doubted that. She didn’t say so. She was tired, glad to have reached some sort of placeholder conclusion to their discussion, ready to go to bed. She had no doubt they were nowhere near finished here, but she had nothing left to give at this point. She got up and pulled Fion into a brief hug. She didn’t hold her responsible for any of this. People couldn’t help who they fell in love with, and never had a fact been truer than it was in this instance. Fion hadn’t fallen for Damien to cause trouble. And if Damien’s affections were genuine, as Fion believed they were, then Ottilie was quite sure he hadn’t fallen into what some might see as an inappropriate affair with his employee to cause trouble either.
‘I think we all need some sleep,’ she said, patting Heath on the shoulder. ‘Coming?’
He nodded.
‘Goodnight,’ Fion said as they left the room. ‘I am sorry, you know.’
‘We know,’ Ottilie said. ‘Let’s talk some more tomorrow when we all have clearer heads.’