He shakes his head, looks around him for a cigarette. She has the tin. His are in his jacket.

She sparks the joint and leans back in her chair. A clairvoyant told me I’d see you again one day. He was a witch doctor actually.

He looks at his hands, his wrists: his own veins, clear and blue, then up at her.

Wanna take this? She holds out the joint.

He stretches over, takes it with the tips of his fingers.

She pours another whisky. He holds out his glass and she tops it up.

You look good, he says. Your flat looks good. You look good. He hands back the joint. So what are you doing, he says. These days.

Hospital. Pharmacy. Shop. Pub.

He drinks his whisky. They pass the joint back and forth in silence.

Did you go back to Goldsmiths, he says, although he knows the answer.

She gives him a steady look. No.

She holds up the last bit of roach.

He shakes his head. Chuck us the tin, he says, and he rolls two more cigarettes.

So what about you, she says.

You know. Art reviews, private views. The occasional lemonade. Nothing very exciting.

She shakes her head at him. Gonna do something with that degree of yours then?

Gonna get that degree of yours then?

Oh, you know me, Ollie. Take it a day at a time. The sun is shining. I’m drug free. What’s your excuse?

He lifts his hand up, spreads the fingers.

You let me introduce you to my parents, you fuck. You let me introduce you to my son.

It was a long fucking time ago, Ria.

A pause.

How is he? Tom.

Fuck off.

He lays his head back in the chair.

I could have done it then, she says. When we were twenty-five. Not so much now.

It hasn’t been much fun for me either.

So you fucked up your own life too, is that what you’re trying to say? Well. I played no part in that.

Never said you did.

You know he asked about you. Is Ollie coming with you again, Mam? Oh don’t worry, he doesn’t any more. He’s sixteen now. He doesn’t even ask about me.

Shit, is he really sixteen?

She grabs a pillar candle – interesting choice of missile – and throws it at his head. He ducks and it smashes to pieces on the wall behind him.

After a safe interval he turns to look at the bits of wax on the floor, still keeping one eye on Ria. You still could, you know, he says. Finish your degree.

Yeah yeah. Mature students. I know.

She stares into space a moment and then stands and leaves the room.

He hears bath water running. She comes back in. I’m gonna have a bath. Do you want to get in with me?