‘Now, Grandson,’ Oriwia said, ‘I want to tell you about Chappy’s first night at Uncle Taana and Aunty Dorothea’s place. We didn’t know he was in a fever, just thought he was drunk even though we all knew he’d had no more than two cups of Paa’s brew. He told me about it much later, when he could speak our language, but it’s better if you have the story now since this is where it belongs. Look here, I’ll write it for you. There’s no revision with these machines, they put me off. Yes, tell it in my own way and have it ready for you by morning.’