My wife remembers the first day our daughter went to school, including what she wore and what she refused to eat. I remember the photograph which came to Riyadh afterwards. When we were talking, I almost corrected the colour of the dress, then realised I was remembering a different photograph. There are whole occasions I know mainly through pictures, and the pictures have become my version of being there. I asked her to continue the story. She said she had told me before, which may be correct. This time I wanted to hear what happened after the photograph, when there was no reason for anyone to hold still.

During the call from Ireland, my grandson recognised my voice before my daughter turned the camera towards him. He came nearer to the phone and touched the screen. I was pleased, more than I had expected, and repeated his name several times although he was looking directly at me. My wife laughed and told me to show him the small toy she had kept ready. After the call I remained at the table while she put things away. The house seemed very quiet, but not unpleasantly so. I was remembering his face coming into the picture. My daughter sent another photograph later. I have looked at it again before sleeping.

On my day off I cleaned both watches at the dining table, using the cloth my wife keeps in a separate drawer. The small clasp needed more attention than usual, but my fingers were steady and I could manage it without changing the light. I had stretched my legs on the chair opposite and only noticed the pressure behind the knees when I stood up. Returned the chair before she came in, as it was blocking her way. The tea had become lukewarm while I was working. I drank it slowly, with no chart beside me and no need to finish before a call. There was still time before lunch, and I was hungry already.