Someone, probably some vicar, would definitely say how much fun he was. How when he came near, William’s body would tighten a bit, get ready; to be picked up, thrown in the air, tickled, cuddled. How his dad always had to sit in the middle of the sofa when the three of them watched telly, so he could put his arm round both of them and say he’d got all he needed to be happy right here, tucked under each armpit. But, William wonders, how would a vicar know that? Only he and his mum knew about that. The vicar would probably say how proud his dad was to be an undertaker and to carry on the family business with his brother, and that makes his tummy tight because he knows it would make his mum feel left out and lonely.

The best memories a vicar wouldn’t know about, and anyway, William’s not sure what a best memory is; they’re all a muddle of good and bad, warm and cold. There is one of him sharing a private joke with his dad that he loves so much, it’s worth enduring the not so nice sequence of events that led up to it.

William was a poor sleeper as a baby, so his dad would leave the house with him on a Saturday morning to let Evelyn sleep. Howard and Robert soon joined them, and the fact that by the time he was two, William slept a solid twelve hours every night, was no reason to stop such an enjoyable routine. The men slipped back into their old camaraderie from school days, with the entertaining bonus of a biddable toddler.

During late spring of William’s fifth year, an early heatwave gave Robert the idea of them taking William fishing. No one thought to prepare the animal-loving boy for what was about to happen.

‘Stop!’ William screamed, when the silver-blue creature appeared, dangling by its mouth, its body flick-flacking. ‘You’re hurting it!’ he bellowed, appalled at the unprecedented cruelty of his uncle.

‘Woo-hooo! Halloooo, William! Isssn’t thissss fffun?’ It was Howard, speaking in a funny, splashy voice. ‘Pleassh can I dance on the gwassssy bank before you put me back in?’ The voice was happy, and as Howard spoke, he jerked and flicked his own body a bit like the fish.

William watched intently as Robert put it on the bank and gently removed the hook.

‘Thank you, Wobert,’ the fishy voice said, in time with its flipperty tail, and the horror started to ebb as William dared to believe in the goodwill of it all. His eyes switched from the fish to Howard’s impression of it, till they melded into the same thing. Robert, smiling at Howard, took the fish and threw it into the air.