But this was absurd; she was jumping to conclusions like a trout at a fly, Jonty would have said. The birth certificate simply must be wrong; was such a thing possible? Forgetting her intention not to pry, she began to go through the other papers and soon came across her own birth certificate. She had seen it before, had had to produce it in order to be accepted at the grammar school so that she might sit for her School Certificate; no mystery there then. She was registered as Theresa Jane Williams and on this form at any rate they had got her birthday right. Tess began to cram the papers back into the folder, then changed her mind and took her grandmother’s birth certificate back out again. She did not understand why the certificate proclaimed a date of birth so much later than it should have been, but Tess found that she did not want Albert or the two boys to see it, and begin to ask questions. So she took the certificate over to the Welsh dresser and slid it under the knives and forks, where it had been before. Then she picked up the wallet, tucked it under her arm and prepared to leave the flat. Before doing so, however, she glanced around her, to make sure that all was as it should be, and noticed for the first time a musty sort of smell. Sighing, she decided that the next day she would give the flat a good clean. Jonty would doubtless lend a hand, but she did not mean to encourage Snowy to join them. It was all very well his pretending that he had forgotten their old quarrel, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he had done no such thing. She knew he no longer went out with Marilyn and that he had had any number of girlfriends in the years which had passed since the quarrel, but she knew too that he had no particular girlfriend at present. She thought he was clearing the decks for university and was subsequently at a loose end, but she did not intend to become embroiled with him again. If he meant to join her and Jonty the following day he would find himself handed a scrubbing brush and an apron, and she guessed that he would take exception to both.

Smiling to herself, she set off for the tobacconist’s shop, letting herself in with Albert’s spare key and running up the stairs two at a time. The mystery of the birth certificate would have to wait, and when she reached Albert’s kitchen and was told that they felt it was unfair to examine the contents of the wallet she agreed eagerly, picked up her mug of cocoa and drained it. ‘I only glanced at the contents, but I’m pretty sure there are insurance documents,’ she said. She turned to Albert. ‘Sorry I was so long, but there were two folders and I wasn’t sure which one was important. In fact I had quite a search for this one.’