‘Because it’s none of my affair,’ Ben replied simply.

Jeff shook his head. ‘Bollocks. You were there in Afghanistan, back in the day. You knew the situation on the ground better than anyone.’

‘Did I? Did any of us really have a clue what we were doing there?’

‘Except we risked our bloody lives, and a lot of us lost theirs.’

‘True enough,’ Ben said. ‘Fighting a so-called war on terror that nobody could ever hope to win. And for what, Jeff? What did we achieve, except support the official narrative that was all based on lies and deception?’

‘I can’t believe you really mean that,’ Jeff protested. ‘You of all people.’

‘I do, and I’m sick of the whole thing. That’s why I’m not interested in sitting there all day staring at the television. It was never really our fight and in any case it’s all over now. End of story.’

‘Hold on a minute—’

‘I’m not getting drawn into this,’ Ben said. ‘Enjoy the show, but leave me out. I’m not bothered, okay?’

He and Jeff saw eye to eye on most subjects, and in all the years they’d known one another there had seldom been a disagreement. But before this discussion could turn argumentative, Ben withdrew from the room and closed the door behind him. Lingering there for just a moment before he walked away, he heard the TV volume come back on and Jeff resume his angry grumbling. Angry at Ben now, too, for his lack of interest.

Ben sighed, left his friend to it and headed back outside into the sunshine. It was a fine, warm day and he had relatively little to do. Storm had followed him from the house and was sitting there looking up at him expectantly with those golden-amber eyes full of intelligence and his jaws open in the nearest thing to a doggy smile. Ben knew what he was thinking.

‘You want to go for a walk? Come on, then.’

The farmhouse was the largest of the buildings – the office, the teaching classrooms, and the converted stable block in which Jeff had his quarters – that ringed the cobbled yard. From there it was just a five-minute stroll past the rear of the firing ranges and down a wildflower-edged track that led to the woods.

As he walked, Ben felt sorry that he’d spoken sharply to Jeff. It was true that he wanted nothing to do with all this talk of Afghanistan. He was thoroughly sick of that whole part of his past.