Evelyn looks at her friend. Is it panic or excitement he sees in the flash of her eyes?

‘We’ll be fine, Norma. If you do my hair and nails now, you can get ready while William and I have a few minutes.’

Norma nods. ‘Just pretend I’m not here.’ She picks up a comb then quickly puts it down again. ‘Tea?’

‘I’ll make it,’ says William, ‘you start her hair.’

‘Grand!’ Evelyn’s smile is radiant, and he was right, she is excited. ‘The kitchen’s on the right, you’ll be able to find everything.’

When he comes back in with a tray, the last of the curlers is coming out and Norma starts combing his mother’s hair. Evelyn has a permanent half-smile on her face, but her hands are tapping in her lap.

‘You look well, Mum.’

‘And it would be a sad thing, if I didn’t have a spring in my step on the day I’m getting married, don’t you think?’

‘What’s he like?’ William busies himself, putting mugs of tea within reach of both women.

‘He’s a wonder, William.’

‘Good.’ He’s suddenly at a loss for words.

‘So,’ she says, pleasant, open, but with a poise that strikes him as a kind of defence, ‘what’s your news?’

He feels sorry for Norma, who gently nudges Evelyn’s head down so she can get to work, looking at his mother’s hair with forensic concentration, as if to reassure him that nothing else going on here is of the slightest interest to her.

‘CBSO are starting a new choir. I’m auditioning next week.’

Evelyn looks up suddenly. No surprise, he thinks, that someone would want to marry her with that radiant face. They may as well be in the Copper Kettle talking about his latest solo. He wishes he was as composed as her. He can’t sit still, inches forward to the edge of the sofa, notices the large bricks of the chimney that dominate the room, his own wedding photo on the mantelpiece.

Norma shakes the hairspray and fills their half of the room with it. She looks at the clock. ‘Half an hour, Evelyn. I wish I could leave you two alone, this is killing me, but both of us need to get changed and I haven’t done your nails yet.’

‘I’ll do her nails,’ William says. Both women look at him with such identical surprise, he can’t help but laugh. ‘I do it all the time in the mortuary.’

Norma’s hand goes back to her chest. Evelyn glances up at her. ‘Welcome to the world of Lavery and Sons, Norma.’

‘I’m pretty damn good at nails actually, Norma.’ William smiles. ‘How about you both get changed, then I’ll do your nails, Mum.’