I drank some wine to cover my faint embarrassment. But it was also one of the things I liked about Mr Rainbird: that he admitted to his interest in me without appearing to think it was anything to be surprised or bashful about. I was defensive in my response for all the usual reasons, like fear that this was a routine he went through with every female between sixteen and seventy, fear that I might succumb and then discover that I had managed to misread the signals and fear that if he was really interested in me and only me there must be something seriously wrong with him. Yet now, sitting watching him eat fegato alla Veneziana, I understood that there was nothing wrong with him at all. His shirt collar was frayed and he looked a little seedy, as if he could do with some ironing and some more proper food, and a lot more regular company, but he was a good man. I smiled unguardedly and he caught the smile and flashed it back at me. Then we both looked down at our plates as if our food had suddenly become the most interesting item in the room.

Whatever the outcome, I thought, flirting with Mr Rainbird was the nicest thing that had happened to me since we had come back from France.

It was, in fact, the only nice thing.

Penny’s and Evelyn’s relationship had evidently taken a serious downward turn while I was away. On my first day back at the Works the house door stood wide open but there was no sign of Cassie, even though I was used to her running to find me after I had been away. Sadie-lady? Sadie-lady! There were no toys lying around in the yard and none of Evelyn’s discarded espadrilles, or scarves, or gossip magazines were visible either.

‘Where’s Cassie?’ I asked. Andy and Leo were both at their benches.

Penny didn’t look up from gluing a binding. ‘With her mother.’

There was a scissoring snap as Leo brought down the guillotine blade on a stack of card.

I got on with my work and waited until eleven o’clock when the men took their mugs of coffee outside into the smoky sunlight for ten minutes. ‘What’s happened?’

Penny did lift her head now. There were deep lines round her eyes and at the corners of her mouth. ‘She’s living with Jerry again.’

So the room at the top of the old house was empty; the star-patterned curtains staying open at night on the view of the canal and the gas cylinders.

‘Why?’

‘Partly because she wants to get pregnant. Partly because she’s not sure about being gay. Or she’s not sure about being gay and with me. Or something.’

‘Is it the end?’