‘I suppose Alasdair knows about Georgia’s wishes and never sent any your way. It may have become a self-fulfilling prophecy.’

Tess imagines her friend doodling on the pad in front of her. Fiona is so talented she could have gone to art school instead of doing law.

‘So would you consider it?’

‘I might. We live in strange times.’

‘His name is Benjamin Weaver. He has two children who go to South Morningside Primary Sch—’

‘Wait!’ Tess stands up and starts to pace around the kitchen. ‘Children? I’m not sure about children.’

‘Two girls. They’re six and nine.’

‘Why does he need somewhere to stay?’

‘He’s a widower and has used all his savings to pay his rent until now. He has his own business and is really quite desperate.’

‘And the government won’t help? There are grants, aren’t there?’

‘He’s one of those people who hasn’t been self-employed for long enough to have done his first tax return so he’s fallen through the cracks of official support.’

‘How long would he want to stay? It’s two years, you know that. I don’t want people here for less time, it’s too disruptive. Georgia always says that it’s not an emergency bed for a month or two, it’s a proper commitment.’

‘I told him that.’

‘And what did he say?’

‘To be honest, Tess, I think he was quite relieved.’

‘I suppose I should at least think about it, and I’ll ring Georgia to discuss it, of course. She’s coming over at the weekend with Stan. We’re having lunch in the garden. It’s allowed now.’

‘So, you’ll meet him?’

‘Is he allowed to come into the house?’

‘Government rules say it’s permitted, because people have to look at properties.’

Tess thinks about the dust bunnies which will undoubtedly have gathered in the corners of the rooms upstairs. She has definitely let things slide.

‘I’ll speak to Georgia this evening. It’s such a nice day that I’m sure she’ll be at the allotment with Stan just now. If she says it’s OK, then he can come on Saturday, while she’s here. He can have lunch with us.’

‘With the children? I don’t think he has anyone to leave them with.’

‘I guess he’ll have to bring them with him, then. Tell him to come around the back.’

Chapter 79

July 2021

Tess is in the scullery, tossing olive oil and balsamic vinegar into a bowl of allotment lettuce and grated carrots with her bare hands. She turns when she hears the footsteps on the gravel.

About five feet eight, she thinks. Reddish hair and beard, going grey, the bits she can see at the side of his turquoise mask, anyway. Skinny, under his linen jacket. Glasses. He is flanked by two little girls with equally red hair, each holding on tightly to one of his hands.