‘I don’t see what’s bad about that. I worked hard for those things.’

‘I know you did, and I’m not criticising you for that. But in case you hadn’t noticed, something bad happened to us, and that changes everything. Our ambitions don’t count any more. The only thing that counts is doing what we can for our son, the same way as we would have done if he’d lost a leg or suffered catastrophic brain injuries. He’s crippled, Matt. The only thing is, we can’t see the damage. But we owe him our support until he doesn’t need it any more. Please, think about alternatives.’

‘What alternatives?’

‘There are other jobs, Matt. Other companies. Couldn’t you try looking for a job near here? You know it’s what your dad would have suggested.’

‘It’s just not what I see as my future. Our future. We like the urban life.’

‘We used to. Things are different now. Please.’

She reaches out across the table, offering her hand. He hesitates, and then takes it.

‘I’ll think about it,’ he says.

As the second hymn ends, the vicar beckons Evan from the front pew. Outside, the day is bitter, bright and blue; inside the church, the cold of centuries accumulated in the stone floor is numbing Claire’s feet. There’s the scent of white lilies, beeswax polish and, from the prayer books and embroidered hassocks, the mustiness of damp. Except for a throat-clearing cough, the rows of mourners behind them are silent. As he walks to the lectern, Evan’s new black shoes sound loud.

He’s getting taller, filling out, and in his suit, shirt and tie, Claire thinks anyone would take him for a normal young man on his way to adulthood. And any normal young man would be nervous at the prospect of what Evan’s about to do. For Evan, it’s the equivalent of a difficult assault on Everest, and Claire feels so proud she could cry.

Painstakingly printing in his childish handwriting, Evan’s copied out on to card what he intends to read. He, Matt and Claire have written the words together during an evening of reminiscence, Evan eating chocolate digestives in Jack’s honour, Matt and Claire toasting him in Glenfiddich.

Evan props the card up on the lectern.

Claire’s afraid for him. She’s afraid he won’t be able to speak, more afraid he’ll look a fool. The silence grows long. Flushed with embarrassment, Evan glances down at his card and clears his throat.

Beyond that, the silence grows longer.

Claire’s thinking about going to rescue him, standing up to stand beside him, when Evan finally speaks in a voice that’s clear and strong.