Goodmans Hotel

Tom and I had beers in the hotel bar before going up to the room. After some rather uninspired sex, he fell asleep immediately, but I lay awake worrying about Darren. A couple of hours later he crept in and undressed, scarcely making a sound, while I pretended to be asleep. Over breakfast Tom was certain to ask him how he had got on, and I would sit there squirming with embarrassment, hoping Darren would answer as briefly and vaguely as possible, wanting to give him all kinds of advice about the dangers, muddle and disappointments of life, but having to keep my paternalistic thoughts to myself.

In the morning, to my relief, when Tom asked, 'Get on all right last night?' he answered 'Okay,' with a shy smile, and that was all that was said. After breakfast I telephoned the Grand Hotel de Luzenac to confirm that we were on our way. They left me holding the line for more than five minutes, then asked me to report to the medical reception desk at exactly two o'clock. Irritated at being required to keep to such a precise time I asked what would happen if we arrived on our visit after two, only to be told that we could visit at any time but an appointment had been made for us at two with a doctor who spoke very good English.

We drove through vineyards in hilly terrain for an hour, staying with the motorway which took us up towards the Pyrenees until we turned off near the town of Carcassonne to climb into the mountains. As we followed the directions given to me earlier, the territory looked increasingly unpopulated and remote, until suddenly the imposing facade of the Grand Hotel appeared as we swung round a steep bend, the road continuing up to Luzenac to the right. To the left of the hotel an energetic river rushed down a narrow gorge.

The doctor was mainly concerned that we should not try to persuade Andrew to travel back with us. She said that his last seizure had been severe, causing paralysis on his left side, and that although out of hospital he was still in need of special care. In time he might improve sufficiently to return to London, but given his age we should not expect too much. The best thing for the present was for him to stay where he was; they understood his medical needs and were able to call in specialists if they were needed.

At last we were shown into the salon, a large communal sitting room on the first floor, where Andrew was waiting for us. He sat in a wheel chair and looked terribly thin and fragile. A broad smile reassured us that the illness had not left him dispirited. He put out his hands towards us in greeting. 'You all look so well! How good to see you!'