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told
me
that, too. But I don’t
feel
like Gregory. I don’t remember anybody calling me Gregory, or Greg, not ever, or signing my name
Gregory
. If you gave me a pen right now and asked me to give you my autograph, I wouldn’t know where to start. I really wouldn’t.’
    â€˜What’s in a name?’ said Isobel. ‘You know what W.B. Yeats once said?’
    â€˜No, I’m sorry, I don’t. Who’s W.B. Yeats?’
    â€˜He was a famous Irish poet. He said that the creations of any writer are nothing more than the moods and passions of his own heart, to which he gives Christian names and surnames, and then sends off to walk the earth.’
    â€˜I’m not sure I understand what that means.’
    â€˜But I believe that’s what
we
are, Gregory – us human beings. All of us, we’re nothing more than the moods and passions of God, to which He has given names, and then sent out to do what He wants us to do. What really counts is what kind of a mood we happen to be in, or what kind of a passion – not what we’re called.’
    â€˜Well, I guess that’s one point of view,’ Michael agreed. ‘But I’d still like to know what my name is. I’m ninety-nine per cent sure that I
am
Gregory. I must be. That’s the name in my driver’s license, and the name embossed on my credit cards. But I don’t
know
that I’m Gregory, not in my head, and not in my heart, either.’
    â€˜But it won’t upset you if I call you Greg?’
    â€˜Of course not. You can call me anything you darn well like, so far as I’m concerned. But you said something about your leaves needed sweeping, in the fall.’
    â€˜Oh, I was only joking. That’s unless you really like gardening, then you’re more than welcome.’
    â€˜I don’t remember if I do like gardening or not. But I don’t think I’ll still be here in the fall. At least I very much hope not.’
    There was a long, awkward silence. Isobel looked across at Catherine and then Catherine said, ‘I’m afraid it’s more than likely, Gregory.’
    â€˜What? You’re not serious!’
    â€˜I didn’t want to depress you before I brought you to meet Isobel, but Doctor Hamid thinks he probably won’t be able to discharge you until the late summer at the earliest.’
    Michael sat down heavily in his wheelchair. ‘That long? I thought you said three or four months! Surely I’ll start to get my memory back before then?’
    â€˜We’re hoping you do, of course. But that’s why I brought you here today, Gregory. I wanted to prepare you.’
    â€˜Prepare me for what, Catherine? I don’t understand.’
    â€˜I wanted you to meet Isobel. As soon as you’re physically well enough not to need twenty-four-hour care, you’ll come to live here, with her. That way, you’ll be able to live as flush-centered a life as possible, but still be close enough to come to the clinic twice a day for post-traumatic amnesia therapy.’
    She held up both hands. ‘If you don’t like the idea, or if you think that you and Isobel won’t get on together, please tell me now. We did everything we could to select somebody compatible for you.’
    â€˜I’m sure we’ll get on wonderfully,’ smiled Isobel. ‘I hope you like lasagne, Greg! That’s my specialty.’
    Michael slowly shook his head. ‘I don’t know if I do or not, Isobel. I don’t remember. I don’t think I can even remember what lasagne actually is.’
    â€˜But you don’t have any objections to coming to live here?’ asked Catherine.
    â€˜I suppose not, no.’
    â€˜OK, then. If you could wait here just a couple of minutes, please, Gregory. I have to have a quick word with Isobel about some of the arrangements.’
    â€˜Sure,’ said Michael. ‘I’m not going