‘There aren’t many right moments,’ Carol muttered. She was annoyed at his presence. It made her aware of her vodka breath, her unwashed hair, the stale alcohol reek of her sweat. She was aware and ashamed of her disintegration. But not enough to do something about it, she thought defiantly.

‘Might I come in?’ He gave a plaintive glance upwards at the heavy drizzle that was still falling. She opened the door wider and stepped aside, waving her arm in a gesture of invitation. ‘And the dog?’ He pointed to the black-and-white collie at his heels.

‘Hello, Jess,’ Carol said. ‘Always happy to see you.’

Nicholas stepped inside. He snapped his fingers and the dog followed, then lay down, head between its paws, eyes on Carol. ‘Actually, this isn’t Jess.’

‘That shows you what I know about dogs.’ Carol closed the door on the weather.

‘An easy enough mistake. This is Flash. Jess is her mother.’ George took off his tweed cap and shook the rain from it. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a hot drink?’

Carol felt her smile had been forced from her. ‘You’re a brave man, Mr Nicholas. Not many people who know me would be so bold.’

‘Not brave. Cold. And please, it’s George.’ Confident, but not arrogant.

‘Tea or coffee? The coffee is good, the tea is basic.’

‘In that case, I’ll take the coffee.’

Carol headed for her living quarters to brew up. She’d barely got the kettle on when she heard the clank and clatter of wood striking wood. She stuck her head round the door to see Nicholas shifting the splay of fallen wood into a neat pile by the door. ‘You don’t have to earn your coffee,’ she said.

He gave her an amused glance. ‘I’m here to ask a favour. I need all the capital I can get.’

Her heart sank. She didn’t want to do anyone a favour. She didn’t want him to owe her anything in return. Besides, she couldn’t imagine any favour she’d be inclined to grant George Nicholas.

By the time the coffee was brewed and poured into a pair of mugs, most of the wood had been stacked by the door. ‘Thanks,’ she said ungraciously.

‘You’re very welcome.’ He looked around, as if expecting a chair to have materialised while his attention had been elsewhere. Failing that, he sat on the floor with a pleasing disregard for its lack of cleanliness. Carol leaned against the wall. The dog stayed put, her eyes shifting from one to the other.

‘So what’s this favour, then?’ She pushed her sweaty hair from her face with the back of a dirty, bloodstained hand.