Now Playing: Sounds of the neighbours giggling, barely perceptible over the violin parts in Arvo Part's 'Tabula Rasa'
I spent an hour today persuading an under-age rape victim not to kill herself. After, I did my duty and reported the case to the relevant authorities, who asked me for my 'professional opinion' as to whether I thought she was likely to top herself tonight, or if she might well wait until tomorrow. What did I estimate were her chances? Drawing upon my vast reserves of training to recognise and deal with such eventualities (approximately nought years of hard training, leading to nil qualification), I guesstimated that she would not die until tomorrow. And Derren Frigging Brown thinks he takes risks.
That surely cured me of this week's furious temper tantrums for a while - that and varying my drive home along the longer, scenic route.
At sunset, I drove across Blackheath, through the village, through the middle of Greenwich royal park (it's ok, you're allowed to -- not doing a Michael Douglas just yet), past the Naval Colleges, the Royal Observatory and through Greenwich itself, scanning the restaurants looking for somewhere to take my colleagues out for a meal, because they covered my stuff okay while I was off sick.
It was pretty, the parks, the architecture, the town market centres, the Thames, the ships and the view of Docklands beyond, all of it, and it calmed me down no end. Pay it forward, indeed.
I suddenly felt better for having acted my way through all of last night (dutiful reasonable ex-girlfriend role), for having been someone there, then, able to help that kid, and for having nothing worse to worry about than my own hurt feelings.