‘When’s the funeral?’

‘On Friday.’

‘Would you like me to come?’

Startled, I looked up at him. ‘I don’t know. It’s just – my mother’s rather difficult, and my brother’s coming home, I think. It could be a bit – it won’t be much fun for you.’

‘Fun?’ Douglas exploded. ‘What d’you think I am, made of wood or something? It doesn’t matter about your family. Of course it’ll be difficult. It’s a bloody awful business. I’d come because I care about you, you silly thing.’

The scarred left cheek was twitching slightly and his eyes were full of an emotion which I couldn’t read. It only dawned on me then that his feelings for me were much stronger than I had imagined.

‘All right. That would be very good of you, thank you.’

I was very weary and wrung out. I knew if I stayed with him much longer it would end with me stepping into his arms and crying myself out. My feelings were confused and painful and could only be eased, I felt, by my getting away from him.

‘Look, I’m very sorry. This hasn’t been much of an outing, I know. But I’m very tired. I’d like to go home.’

Douglas was all courtesy. We waited in silence at the bus stop. All I could feel was my acute need to be out of his company. Saying nothing, we sat together on the slow-moving bus. I got off first at Moseley.

‘Thank you,’ I said, standing up quickly. ‘See you soon . . .’ I tried to smile at him.

As the bus passed me I saw him looking out, searching for me with his eyes.

*

At Daddy’s funeral he kept well in the background. I was glad he was there, though my mind was mostly on other things. I wished Olivia could be there and that I could turn to her, but I had to be content with her brief letter.

A bewildering number of people did attend the service, though. I looked round the church seeing faces I had never set eyes on before: many must have been patients, but there were also a rather oddly dressed crew in mismatched clothes and squashed felt hats, some of whom I guessed were his Christian Socialist friends. The organ let out a bleak sound and it was raining outside so the lights had to be on in the church. The tribute all these people were making to Daddy by being there made me feel wretched and powerless, as if circumstances had cheated me. Why had I known him so little? All these people for and with whom he had worked so hard, had in fact given his life for, and I had barely known of their existence.

Mummy was dignified and calm. She was well used to buttoning up her emotions. She wore her usual brown coat since she didn’t possess a black one, and a black hat with a wide brim against which her pale features looked sharp and severe. She sat beside me on the front pew, her back very straight.