With a nod, Rod ushered her through the door into a back office. The walls were covered in a coat of faded whitewash, and the bare floorboards were speckled with splashes of white paint. Although not large, the room felt smaller than its actual dimensions because it had no windows. There were a couple of plastic chairs and a table with papers and folders spread around in a disorderly jumble. Rod sat on one of the chairs and invited Geraldine to take the other.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘what’s this about?’

‘What can you tell me about Jonathan Edwards?’

Rod hesitated. ‘Jonathan Edwards?’ he repeated. ‘You mean – Jonathan? Jonathan Edwards?’

Geraldine didn’t answer but watched him, waiting for him to speak again. As she had intended, he looked increasingly uncomfortable under her silent scrutiny.

‘Yes,’ he admitted at last, ‘I know a guy called Jonathan Edwards. He’s some sort of librarian, or he was. He lost his job in the cutbacks. We both did,’ he added, becoming more animated. ‘I used to do maintenance work in a school, odd job man, you know. But they laid me off, said the caretaker could do everything I did, fixing lights, patching things up, you know, changing fuses. There’s always something to do, mopping up and tightening screws, replacing display boards. It was never-ending. There’s no way the caretaker could do all that by himself. But they said the money had run out and they didn’t have the funds to pay me any more, so they laid me off.’ He scowled. ‘So that’s how I ended up here. It’s not a bad job, actually, better paid than I used to be and I get to take home snacks and things when they’re out of date. Not very out of date,’ he added quickly. ‘They’re absolutely safe to eat, but we just can’t sell them any more. It’s not like most of the stuff here goes off anyway.’

‘So you don’t feel aggrieved about what happened? At the school?’

‘No, not any more. I mean, sure I was pissed about it at first, who wouldn’t be? But it’s worked out OK. I mean, it was only a job. It’s OK here. It gets boring, but in some ways I prefer it. Less pressure. They were constantly on at me to do something.’

‘How did you meet Jonathan?’

Rod nodded. ‘Jonathan, right. He was livid about losing his job. That’s how we met, at a so-called job seekers’ meeting. Jonathan’s trouble is that he hasn’t moved on. He’s still banging on about how he was badly treated, unfairly chucked on the scrap heap. I know he’s older than me, but he could have made more of an effort. I mean, look at me. I was laid off but I didn’t give up. I found another job, and that’s what he should have done.’