So I was heard, and it felt good and respectful to be heard, to be got, not to be interrupted or cut off by opinionated, poorly attuned people. For the longest while longest friend didn’t say anything and I didn’t mind her not saying anything. Indeed I welcomed it. It seemed a sign she was digesting the information, letting it speak to her timely, to authenticate also in its proper moment the right and just response. So she stayed quiet and stayed still and looked ahead and it was then for the first time it struck me that this staring into the middle distance, which often she’d do when we’d meet, was identical to that of Milkman. Apart from the first time in his car when he’d leaned over and looked out at me, never again had he turned towards me. Was this some ‘profile display stance’ then, that they all learn at their paramilitary finishing schools? As I was pondering this, longest friend then did speak. Without turning, she said, ‘I understand your not wanting to talk. That makes sense, and how could it not, now that you’re considered a community beyond-the-pale.’