He hasn’t told his mother he’s off to London to start his formal training. Uncle Robert might have told her, he supposes. He knows they write to each other now; the frostiness started to thaw a year or so ago. He knows that makes Robert happy but he has never felt comfortable with it himself. The last four years, since leaving Cambridge so abruptly, only make sense if he keeps holding his mother accountable for what happened. As another train suddenly rips by in the opposite direction, William sits back and closes his eyes. It’s no good; rocked by the train, with late summer gold flashing across the countryside, he can’t withstand the memory of saying goodbye to her all those years ago, and the feeling it brings of being totally loved by her, the centre of her universe.

He’s lived with Robert and Howard since that nightmare Ash Wednesday, when he refused to even finish his final year. Evelyn had arrived straight from Swansea to hear William sing, fizzing with excitement and intent. In two short weeks, she’d found a house, a job, a school with Eisteddfod ambition keen to welcome a Cambridge chorister. She would move there as soon as possible to get settled during William’s final term and he’d join her there for the summer. Walking into the college chapel, that was her glittering plan. A short hour later, everything had come crashing down.

When none of them – Phillip, Mr Atkinson, his mother or Robert – had even put a dent in William’s resolve to leave Cambridge immediately, the only option was for him to stay temporarily with his uncle while Evelyn got settled in Swansea. That he ended up staying four years, through his O and A levels, was a surprise to everyone.

For the first few weeks with Robert and Howard, William put all his effort into forgetting the last four years had even happened. He schooled himself to block any memories as soon as they appeared. He wouldn’t listen to choral or church music, he wouldn’t sing, and he wouldn’t allow himself a moment’s hesitation before dropping Martin’s unopened letters in the bin.

What he swore he would never forget, however, was that all this was his mother’s fault.