After being with strangers all day, he takes comfort in lifting the familiar Scudamore from the shelf, flicking through it to find the right chapter, smiling at the musty breath of it and how it feels like a bit of his uncle’s and dad’s souls right there before him. He reads it thoroughly, then composes his answer, first in rough, then neatly. Two hours pass in which he has happily disappeared from himself. The knock at the door is gentle, but it still makes him jump.

‘Cocoa in ten mins if you want it.’ The voice is bold. London. Female. Must be Gloria.

‘Thank you,’ he says, listening to the footsteps going downstairs.

Is he meant to follow her? Will she bring it up? If she does, should he ask her in? If he goes downstairs, should he bring it back to his room, or should he sit down there with them? He sits at his desk, checking his watch every few seconds.

At four minutes and counting, he is delivered. ‘Come on down,’ calls the voice, ‘it’s ready.’

She’s waiting in the galley kitchen doorway, with a tray holding two cups and a plate of biscuits. ‘Take this to Mum and Dad, and then we can have ours in here. They’re watching Armchair Theatre, and no one’s allowed to speak, or Dad loses track.’

William takes the tray from the attractive young woman he thinks is roughly the same age as him, catching his thumb between her fingers as she hands it over. The silvery TV light reflects off Mr and Mrs Finch’s spectacles. He gently puts the tray on the small table in between their two seats and leaves with neither acknowledging his presence.

‘Thank you, William,’ Mr Finch shouts, making him jump in the doorway.

‘Yes, thank yoooou,’ sings Mrs Finch.

‘My pleasure,’ shouts back William. ‘What’s so funny?’ he says to Gloria.

‘You’re very polite.’ She smiles, wiping a circle of cocoa from the work surface with a sponge.

‘Costs nothing, but earns you a lot,’ he said, surprised at how readily his mother’s words trip off his tongue.

Gloria’s green eyes shine as she laughs again. She pushes herself up onto the counter and William is struck by how athletic and light on her feet she is. She is a good four inches shorter than him. He also notices her padded curves; how nice it would be to rest his hands on that gentle bulge of her hips through her pretty dress. ‘That’s yours there.’ She nods at a green cup and saucer. ‘And help yourself to biscuits out the tin. I’m Gloria.’

‘Nice to meet you, Gloria,’ he says. The cocoa is strong, with small, petrol-y bubbles on top. ‘Thank you for this.’

‘My pleasure,’ she says. ‘What was in your envelope tonight?’

She’s obviously used to Thames College students in her house, so he responds in kind.