Pink and white scraps of confetti skitter across a gravestone in front of them. A burst of laughter comes from the church. They’ll need to go back soon. He wants to hold Gloria’s hand, which hangs, elegant, by her side, still with her wedding ring on, he notices. His mother and Frank are walking towards the car.

A fresh breeze rolls confetti across the gravel and over Gloria’s cream shoes. She kicks her foot to shake it off. In front of the church, Evelyn is climbing into the lovely old car as Frank holds the door, with a smile splitting his face. The door clunks shut and the car drives away past a crowd of waving people.

On impulse, William reaches out for Gloria’s hand, but she shakes her head. A gust of wind cools his face. There are more clouds than blue sky now. Looking across at Gloria’s stately, heavy form, he suddenly knows exactly what he needs to do next. And he so wants her to be with him when he does it.

‘Gloria?’ He stops walking and is grateful that she stops too, and for the first time, looks him in the eye.

‘What?’

‘I’m going to Aberfan. Will you come with me?’

‘That’s what you’ve got to say to me, is it?’ Her eyes are ferocious; he notices how tightly she’s gripping the handles of her bag. ‘Only I’d wondered whether you might ask me how I’ve managed since you’ve been gone thinking I’m going to be a single mother. I thought maybe you might ask me about that, William!’

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, blinking against the instant burn of tears.

Gloria stands steady, glaring at him. ‘I was going to tell you I was pregnant. I was trying to work out the best way to do it. Then there was that awful bloody christening. And then you just … just left! How could you do that to me, William?’

The cool breeze strengthens. His hands are cold; he wants to take hold of Gloria’s. ‘I wanted you to be free of me.’

Gloria shakes her head, lets out a sorry laugh.

‘Please come with me to Aberfan.’

‘When?’ A strand of hair is blown diagonally across her face, but she does nothing to move it.

He shrugs, glances round at the departing cars. ‘Tomorrow?’

Her green eyes seem to give up some of the animosity, searching his face for something. ‘All right.’

He lets go of the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. ‘Thank you, Gloria.’

‘I’ll need the loo a lot,’ she says, not returning the smile.

‘Of course.’

She turns her back on him and heads for the church. ‘Now leave me be for a bit,’ she says over her shoulder, ‘I can’t take too much of you at once.’