I poured myself a large whisky. There was a drink still un­touched beside my chair, but it seemed important, seeing him standing by the fire in that proprietorial attitude, to assert at least the ownership of the contents of the cocktail cabinet, and to make it plain that I wasn’t offering him any hospitality.

“We’re very clever, aren’t we?” His face was darkening. “May I ask how you’re proposing to live?”

“Tiffield’s offered me a job. You didn’t know that, did you?”

“I thought he was up to something,” he said. “But he’s too clever by half. He doesn’t want you because you’re such a bright young man, you know. He wants you because he thinks you’re my blue-eyed boy and he thinks it’ll break my heart to see you go. You’re not as good as all that, Joe. You’re still the little Town Hall clerk at bottom, you’ve gone as far as you ever will go—”

“Shut up. I may have to listen to you at the works, but I’m damned if I will in my own house.”

“It’s not your house. I made sure of that. You’re a lodger here, you cheap no good womanizer, and I’m giving you notice.”

I turned to Susan. “Let him rave,” I said. “I’m going now. Tell Barbara I’m going away to – earn pennies. Promise?”

“You’ll just be in time for the ten-thirty train,” Brown said.

“I’m driving down.”

“Oh no you’re not. That’s the firm’s car, in case you’d for­gotten.” He held out his hand. “The keys.”

I tossed them on the floor. “There you are,” I said. “Root for them like a pig. Susan, will you lend me your car?”

She picked up her handbag.

“No,” Brown said. “I gave you that car. It’s not his.”

Susan handed me the Morris keys. “If it was a present to me, it’s mine. I can lend it to whom I like. Joe, you needn’t go tonight. Stay here, wait until you’ve calmed down. It’s a long journey.”

“I must go,” I said. “You know why.”

She looked at me appealingly. “Joe, you’re tired. You’ve had something to drink. Wait until morning at least, dear.”

Brown snorted. “Dear!” he said. “He’s leaving her and she calls him dear! Let the bastard kill himself and good riddance!”

“Keep out of this,” Susan said. “I want to talk to my husband. In fact, I think you’d better go.”

His mouth sagged open in astonishment. “Go? I’m your father, it’s my duty to look after you. By God, you can’t look after yourself—”

“Get out.”