‘What about you, Ray?’ William puts the pad of his finger on some toast crumbs left on the worktop; one, two, three of them. ‘How was Leeds?’

‘Didn’t go.’ Ray shakes the towel in the sink, fiddling with his collar, and then sits back down. ‘There was snow forecast and I didn’t want to get stranded.’

‘And would you believe,’ Gloria says, hands on curved hips, ‘his landlady went away for two days and left him without any heating or hot water! At Christmas!’

Ray looks from Gloria to William and back to Gloria, mouth turned down, his eyebrows slightly raised.

‘Awful,’ William says, not believing a word, and then, because he can’t stand it any longer, ‘So how did you—’

The front door opens and Mrs Finch is in full flow coming towards the kitchen. ‘They may be half price, but do we want psychedelic curtains in the lounge … William!’ He jumps down from the counter; she approaches with open arms. ‘Welcome back!’

‘Happy New Year, Mrs Finch,’ he says as she squeezes him round the waist. Mr Finch stands behind, in William’s sightline. ‘Happy New Year, Mr Finch.’

The kitchen is full of them now. Ray is the only one sitting, in the chair that shouldn’t be there.

‘My! Don’t you look smart, Ray!’ Mrs Finch rests her hands on Ray’s shoulders. ‘I told you Gloria would sort you out.’

William is confused. Mr Finch claps his hands and says, ‘So, William, we did it. Are you pleased?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Took you up on your suggestion.’

‘What suggestion?’

‘What other suggestions have you made?’ Mr Finch laughs. ‘Offering the spare bed in your room to your friend.’

On 27th December, Ray had hand-delivered a letter to Mr and Mrs Finch introducing himself, a friend of William’s (more like a brother really – after all William had done to help him). He described his impoverished digs, his struggle not coming from an undertaking background, his desire to qualify. How William was going to help him and had mentioned there was a spare bed in his room, and didn’t think they’d mind another lodger. He knew this was presumptuous, but after spending such a miserable Christmas, he thought he’d got nothing to lose. The worst that could happen was that they’d say no – which he’d quite understand.

All this William picked up from the torturous meal they’ve just eaten. He was the only one who’d come off badly if he contested everything. So William nodded and smiled and laughed at Ray’s jokes, who, transformed by his haircut, has well-tended nails and clothes less rumpled and grubby. William felt himself grow smaller with every joke Ray uttered and every burst of laughter from Gloria’s mouth. It was not in him to compete, so he sat there growing quieter and smaller and meaner.