What I actually did

What I actually did yesterday was check. That is what that was. I went looking. Not deliberately — I genuinely was after the deed — but when the wrong drawer opened I did not close it for a while, and what I was doing in that while was reading dates and looking for a number I did not recognise. Four years, and I still go looking. I have not told him. Which is its own item, obviously, and I can see the shape of it from here: he kept one thing from me for eleven months and I have responded with four years of a small private audit that he does not know is running. Not the same scale. Not nothing either. I am not going to do anything about this today. I have a nine o'clock and then five more and then the Tuesday class, and this is the kind of thing that needs a Saturday and a different room. Putting it here so that it is somewhere other than my head.

Naming the Saturday, probably. I am not going to do that tonight either. But I notice that is the answer.