There are two types of people, as my glasshalf- full dad said: wishers and hopers. “Same thing, surely?” I’d say.
“Not quite. Hope makes a person act on their wishes.”
So right now, I’m acting on my wishes by travelling to see Anya at her hall of residence, ringing to say I’m on my way, and thus making it a fait accompli.
I know her lecture timetable by heart. On her last, definitive visit, she’d left a tattered copy on the hallway table while sifting through her coat. I’d swiped the timetable, pretended it had gone astray, then said, “Oh dear, it wasn’t your only copy, was it?”
“No, it’s on my phone,” she’d said. Everything is, these days.
Current circs had necessitated my low cunning – though at the…
