When the doctor saw him he shook his head gravely, and turning to Hautot’s son who was sobbing in a chair, said, ‘My poor boy, I’m afraid it doesn’t look at all good.’

But when a dressing had been applied, the injured man moved his fingers, opened his mouth, then a pair of haggard eyes, and cast a few anxious glances around him. He seemed to be searching his mind for something and then, when the whole sequence of events came flooding back, murmured: ‘Christ almighty! I’ve had it now.’

The doctor took his hand.

‘No! Certainly not! All you need is a few days’ rest and you’ll be absolutely fine.’

Hautot went on: ‘No, I know the score. Shattered stomach. I’ve had it.’

Then suddenly: ‘I want to talk to my son if I’ve got time.’

Young Hautot whimpered like a little boy: ‘Papa! Papa! Oh, poor Papa!’

In a firmer tone his father said: ‘Listen, stop crying. Doesn’t help. I’ve got to talk to you. Come close, it’ll only take a minute. Then I’ll feel much better. You lot, can we have a minute or two if you don’t mind?’

The others went out of the room, leaving father and son together. As soon as they were alone the father spoke: ‘Listen, my boy, you’re twenty-four, I can tell you everything now. Not that there’s much to tell. Anyway you know when your mother died seven years ago I was … well I’m forty-five now. I was married at nineteen by the way, right?’

‘Yes I know.’

‘So when she died she left me a widower at thirty-seven. Can you imagine? Chap like me. Can’t be a permanent widower at thirty-seven, can you my boy?’

‘No father, of course not.’

The father’s face was pale and contorted with pain.

‘God, I’m in agony here. Anyway, to continue. A chap can’t live entirely on his own yet I couldn’t remarry. I’d promised your mum. So … are you following?’

‘Yes father.’

‘So. I took up with this girl in Rouen. Rue de l’Éperlan, number 18, third floor, second door. You are taking all this in I hope? This girl, she’s been so good to me, you know. I couldn’t have wished for a sweeter little wife. Loving, devoted, you get the picture my boy?’

‘Yes father.’

‘Well, anyway, if I should pop off I reckon I owe her. A lot. Enough to set her up. You understand?’

‘Yes, father.’