‘I believe it is,’ she says. ‘Walter did tell me. In great detail, but years ago. There’s been a lot of history under the bridge since then. I should explain how this works.’ She puts on an apologetic look. ‘All the best history-nerd couples listen attentively to the details of each other’s areas of fascination, but not so attentively that they end up knowing so much they can tread on each other’s turf. If there’s some bit of history you love, it’s natural to want to be the explainer. Walter got to listen to a lot about my old pieces of paper, but he did love being the explainer.’

‘He would have liked that hat of Napoleon’s that went on the market a few months back.’ I was home, on painkillers, constipated. Killing long tracts of time, tracking all the news. ‘The one that got knocked off his head at Waterloo.’

‘Oh, yes. I had the exact same thought. I should be selling that old hat instead of this house. A good one went for four million in 2014. Walter had a lot to say about that. There are nineteen of Napoleon’s hats around, apparently. That’s a Walterism, but likely true.’ She takes a breath, and lets it out. She picks the soldier up and walks him across to the watch, clicking his base against the table. ‘I’d give it to a child – I’d give it to your stepson, happily – if it wasn’t all made of lead and so damaged. And I don’t even know if children play with toy soldiers anymore.’

‘I think times have changed. I had toy soldiers, but then Star Wars came along.’ I bend down to take a closer look and fit in a sneaky leg stretch. ‘But that doesn’t mean there’s no market for them. My brother, actually, is interested in old toys and he has some toy soldiers, old ones. He’s even got tiny brushes with about two hairs that he uses to paint them. He might know if it’s worth something. I could send him a photo.’

‘I’m sure it has just sentimental value,’ she says. ‘Walter would have liked your brother. We have a few old toys in here. He would have liked you too, of course.’ She puts her hand on my arm, quickly, to pat any offence away. ‘But my category issue is trash or keep? It’s not a sell. The sentiment was Walter’s so . . .’

Even as she says it, her hand wraps around the figure, holding it snugly.

‘Maybe it can go in the very restricted category of “requires further thought”.’

‘All right,’ she says. ‘I can do that. Now, there’s only one other item of the senator’s, I believe. Walter’s grandfather’s.’

She reaches into the box with both hands and lifts out some records – just the old, buckled records themselves, no sleeves. When she sets them on the table, it’s clear they’re fused together.