Gloria flicked her wrist to open the folded letter and scanned it. ‘… “best that I cleared off. I don’t think you or anyone else would want me sticking around …”’ Her voice was harsh. Mr Finch dipped his head and studied his toast. ‘He’s right, isn’t he?’ Gloria swept them all with her bold gaze.

William caught Mrs Finch glancing at him. Mr Finch didn’t look up. She ripped the letter in two, laid the pieces next to her plate, and took a gulp of tea.

‘So, William, the Tate. You love it there, don’t you?’ Her skin was still pale, and she hadn’t curled her hair, so it looked longer and thinner than normal, and her head smaller. All William has wanted to do since her return from hospital is hold her. Sometimes the feeling is so strong he has to fold his arms. He imagines nothing in return. He just wants to wrap her up and make her feel safe.

‘I do,’ he replied, ‘I love the building as much as the paintings. And you can get a pot of tea and a cake for two shillings round the corner – a bit pricey, but worth it.’ He was talking too much, but didn’t want to lose her interest. Encouraged by the faint amusement on her face, he asked, ‘Want to come with me? It’s only a short walk from the bus stop.’

‘Why not?’ she said, glancing at her mum and then out at the garden, at the warm July morning. ‘It’s a nice day, isn’t it? About time I got out.’

Mr Finch put his hand on his daughter’s back and gently rubbed it. ‘Good idea.’ He rummaged in his pocket and put a pound note on the table. ‘Tea and cakes are on me.’

Mrs Finch smiled and winked at William.

‘Tea?’ says William now, taking Gloria’s elbow and leading her away from Ophelia.

‘I’ve never been to an art gallery before,’ Gloria says, her heels clicking on the wooden floor.

‘Neither had I,’ he says. ‘There was a lot of art at Cambridge, but it was literally part of the furniture, so I didn’t take much notice.’ They turn left into the next room, past portraits of serious-looking men, and the light-catching gold of an enormous frame surrounding a dark, foreboding landscape.

‘Why did you start coming?’ Gloria cranes her neck before and behind William to take in what’s on his side of the room.

‘To begin with, it was a free-time filler that made me feel I was making the most of London, getting to see its treasures.’

‘And now?’ She turns her head to him.