They’ve arrived. Frank nods at William lightly and smiles. Then his eyes land on Evelyn and William is left in no doubt that this man is in love with his mother. Not until she has slid her arm from William’s and reached out to take Frank’s hand does she let out a sob; a short, wild cry. Frank puts his hand on her back, and she breathes in and straightens. She looks across at William and winks.

Without her, he feels horribly unanchored, exposed. Quickly, he slips into the space next to Gloria. They both look straight ahead as everyone sits.

‘Welcome, all of you, to this joyous event,’ says the vicar, opening his arms, ‘the wedding of our beloved friends, Frank and Evelyn.’

So close to Gloria after all these weeks, he breathes in her perfume, the fresh shampooed smell of her hair, and his stomach flips. William doesn’t need to turn towards her to see the difference. Doesn’t need to look. He simply knows. Gloria is pregnant.

‘This wasn’t deliberate. I promise.’ Gloria puts her hands on her rounded stomach.

The graveyard is littered with confetti. Frank’s family have been summoned for the photos, and Gloria has accepted William’s invitation for a quick walk. Later, he will describe the service as an out of body experience. Standing next to her during the hymns, he was stabbed by unexpected moments of joy so intense and physical he had to channel the surges of energy into his singing. The first time, verse two of ‘Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven’, he made the vicar physically jump. Martin joined in so it wasn’t just him who drew attention. He didn’t understand how this thing he’d never wanted could make him so happy. Maybe it was simply being next to her again.

‘I believe you,’ he says now, hands in his pockets to fight the impulse to hug her, put his fingers through her gorgeous hair and touch her changed form.

‘Well, good. I’m glad that’s straight.’ She still won’t look at him properly. ‘And I’m pleased you and Evelyn have talked,’ she says after a pause, ‘at long, bloody last.’

He nods. ‘Yes, at long bloody last.’ Their feet crunch on the gravel pathway for a few steps.

‘I wasn’t going to let her be cheated out of being a grandmother as well as a mother.’

‘You did the right thing. You’ve always been better than me at that.’

‘You big pillock, William.’

He expects a smile to slide across her face, but there isn’t one. She’s angry. Of course she is. Wives aren’t like mothers. They can stop loving.

‘How are you?’ He gestures at her stomach and, even though she’s unhappy with him, there’s an involuntary flutter of elation in his own belly.

She shrugs. ‘I’m dealing with it.’