She lays her cutlery down, though her plate is half full, and puts her hands in her lap. ‘Turning up at the flat late at night, crying and carrying on about Howard having a right to hear you sing, isn’t respecting my wishes.’

‘He did that?’ The chips in his mouth are too big and dry.

‘I was worried the neighbours might call the police!’ Her face creases in irritation. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, William, why are you getting teary?’

‘You made him cry!’ William wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘How could you? He must have been so upset.’

‘So was I!’ Evelyn frowns. ‘And now to find out the two of you have been going behind my back writing letters.’

‘It wasn’t like that. We just knew you wouldn’t like it.’

Evelyn leans forward, her body nudging her abandoned plate. ‘What else don’t I know about?’

He just looks at her.

‘What else?’ she repeats firmly.

‘In my first term, I was homesick and didn’t want you to worry. Robert sent me Dad’s old blanket.’ Evelyn’s mouth is a straight line, her eyes hard and bright. ‘He comes to evensong once a term. He drives all the way, then drives back straight afterwards. And when he gets home, he writes to me about the music.’ William’s eating as he speaks. Evelyn’s cutlery still lies either side of her plate. ‘But he’s never said anything unkind about you. Ever.’

Evelyn looks down momentarily. ‘I’ve been honest about how hard it is to even look at Robert sometimes, but this isn’t about that. I’m worried about you getting dragged into the family business.’ She frowns again. ‘You’ve got talents. It would be a waste.’ She pauses and shakes her head. ‘A complete waste.’

‘What about Dad,’ he says quietly, ‘do you think he wasted his life? Were you ashamed of him?’

‘Never!’ She looks almost afraid. ‘But William, you’re special. You’ve got a gift. Please don’t throw it away.’

‘Relax,’ he says, dipping a chip into the scarlet pool of ketchup, ‘I want to stay in music. Uncle Robert won’t change that. But if we move to Wales, I’ll always want to stay in touch with them and you can’t stop me.’

She sighs. ‘Of course.’ She finally lifts her cutlery.

‘But Mum?’

‘Yes?’

‘Be honest, that’s not the only reason you don’t want Howard to come and sit in the pew with you and Robert, is it?’

‘I’d rather it just be me, but I know I wouldn’t get away with that. I just don’t want to have to share it with them and that’s the truth.’