‘Oh come on, give him a chance. He’s very sweet,’ said Cass.

‘Oooooh, Cass!’ Her sister pushed her on the shoulder. ‘Sticking up for him!’

‘It’s nothing like that,’ said Cass. ‘I just think he’s a nice person. Harmless.’

‘Do you think Mum’s only just noticed that he’s called Stephen Nolan?’ said Georgie.

‘Probably,’ said Cass.

‘You’d think she might’ve found out his name, before she asked him here for weeks at a time.’

‘Well, I quite fancy him,’ Helena announced.

‘You don’t!’ said Georgie. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. Don’t pull that face! He’s lovely looking, hadn’t you noticed?’

‘All I noticed was the red hair. And the accent,’ said Georgie.

‘I like the accent,’ said Cass.

‘And I do,’ said Helena.

‘It makes you think he’s being funny, even when he isn’t,’ said Cass.

‘It was funny when he said that thing about how near the public swimming pool was to his house – the thing about the bee,’ said Helena.

‘It’s just a bee’s dick away,’ mimicked Cass.

They all laughed.

‘Well, you’re here for long enough – you could seduce him,’ said Georgie. ‘He could be your summer paramour.’

Helena giggled. ‘I just might give it a go.’

9.

There was a dinner party planned for the second Friday of Stephen’s stay. A new history teacher had been appointed at the school where Nick taught, and had lately moved to the area with his wife. Some old friends would join them, with their son and daughter. They would be twelve, which meant using the dining room. The girls drifted in and out with flowers and greenery for the table while Celia rooted around in cupboards and found the gold cocotte dishes which she planned to use for the first course, baked eggs. Then she sat down, to write a list.

‘I’ll make my famous coq au vin, shall I?’ Nick volunteered.

‘Famous with who?’ said Georgie. Her father stuck his tongue out at her. His tongue was oddly small and blunt, like a species of lizard.

‘People’ll have to ask, which came first, the chicken or the egg?’ asked Celia.

‘Ha bloody ha,’ said Nick.

‘Dad! That’s a bit rude,’ Cass remonstrated.

‘Shall we bother with pudding tomorrow, or just have cheese?’ said Celia, unperturbed.

‘Oh no, let’s have pudding as well. Might as well do it properly.’

‘I’ll do it,’ said Cass. ‘I’ll be in charge of pudding. Dad, can you buy some cream, when you go to town later?’

The Clarkes did not as a rule eat anything sweet after a meal, which was new to Stephen. At home they generally had ice-cream, or a fruit pie for dessert; trifle on special occasions.

‘Anything in particular you’d like me to do?’ he asked.

‘Could you lay? The table I mean?’ said Celia. ‘Then we won’t have to think about it later.’

‘Sure,’ said Stephen.