The after-shock of this word hangs in the air between them, vibrating. And there are exclamation marks. Plenty of them. Invisible to the human eye. Yet palpable.

Testicles?

!!!!!!!!!!!

‘I once ate a quince jam – a kind of jelly or … I don’t know … paste while on holiday in Spain,’ Avigail says …

Testicles?

‘They serve it with cheese.’

‘Membrillo.’ Denny nods. ‘You bake the quinces and then sieve them, set it in trays …’

Quince oil on his testicles?

It would be fair to say that Denny is something of an authority on quinces.

Charles imagines Denny wearing a T-shirt that reads: I AM AN AUTHORITY ON QUINCES.

Charles didn’t register the comment about testicles because he was too busy asking himself how he was feeling:

Claustrophobic.

Bemused.

Focused.

Unfocused.

But are ‘focused’ and ‘unfocused’ feelings, as such?

No.

Not feelings. Yet they are certainly ‘felt’.

Not feelings, as such.

So what are they?

States?

Hmm. What would the score in Scrabble be for the word ‘quince’? Charles wonders.

Off the cuff he guesstimates 18 – which isn’t a bad score.

Although ‘guesstimates’ is probably around 14.

Although it probably wouldn’t be allowed.

Although words are words and exist and flourish and gain in plausibility simply by dint of being used.

Words are promiscuous, by nature.

Even so.

As he ponders Charles has a nagging feeling that there’s something he should be getting to grips with. Oh yes. This tiny man with the magnifying glass has broken into his home and is taking an itinerary of all his possessions in the hope of relieving him of them in the short to medium term.

Testicles?

Having said that, Denny Neale (although Charles has no idea what this little man is called) isn’t carrying a clipboard with him, or pen (attached with a bit of string to the clipboard) for the making of lists etc. Although he has professed to being legally blind so a clipboard would be of limited use to him, surely? Even with a giant magnifying glass? Charles finds himself at once impressed and appalled that Llandudno Council have seen fit to employ this man. Perhaps his blindness is a recent thing?

Um …

Testicles?

‘Have you been blind for long?’ Charles asks.

Charles actually interrupts a conversation between Abigail

AV-IGAIL, CHARLES!

AV-IGAIL!

AV-IGAIL!

AV-IGAIL!

AV-IGAIL!

AV-IGAIL!

Morag doesn’t get paid for correcting every, tiny mistake, Charles. Morag gets paid for copy-editing the entire book. Morag already wasted several precious hours yesterday afternoon checking the lyrics to that ridiculous song about China that Ying Yue sang in the last chapter and is currently feeling pretty pissed off. So you are really wearing her down by doing this. Just get it into your thick head already:

AV-IGAIL!

AV-IGAIL!

Yes.

Good enough is more than enough. For me.

But not for a copy-editor.

And certainly not for a high-grade copy-editor, like Morag.

Good enough is not enough. For a high-grade copy-editor, like Morag.

‘… a special kind of blue cheese …’ Avigail is saying.