‘I think so. They won’t admit it–Gary in particular–but I’m pretty sure they do.’

‘And…?’

‘Well, I had this daft idea.’

‘How daft?’

‘You’ll laugh.’

‘Try me.’

‘I said we should form a secret society.’

‘What sort of secret society?’

‘I don’t know.’ Then he brightened. ‘To right wrongs and generally make a difference.’

Erica carried on washing his back. ‘Like Robin Hood?’

‘A bit. But without anybody knowing. I haven’t really thought it through. Do you think I’m crackers?’

‘Oh, yes. But then I’ve always thought you were crackers.’

‘So it’s a daft idea?’

‘Yes.’

‘And I shouldn’t pursue it.’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘So I should pursue it?’

‘I didn’t say that either. If it makes you happy…Provided you don’t do anything stupid.’ She looked at him; picking up on the earlier part of the conversation. ‘You are still happy aren’t you? I mean, with us.’

He hesitated for the tiniest split second. ‘Of course I am. Like you said, it must be just my time of life, that’s all. It makes you take stock. Think about where you’re going.’

Chapter 5

I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.

A Streetcar Named Desire, Tennessee Williams, 1911–83

The City of Winchester lies in the valley of the River Itchen. It is handsome and airy, as cities go, and more of a town in terms of its size. Approaching from the east, you can see it lying peacefully in the valley below, snoozing in the summer sun, or hunkered down to avoid the bitter winter winds. The pale buff-grey Norman cathedral dominates not just the green close that surrounds it, but this entire section of the broad valley through which the trout-rich Itchen snakes its way. Once the capital of England, and still home to the lump of wood that purports to be King Arthur’s round table, Winchester was, according to the poet John Keats, ‘the pleasantest town I ever was in’. Its High Street he found ‘quiet as a lamb’. That’s all changed now, but he might still consider that some of the side-streets with their 18th-century houses and shop fronts were ‘excessively maiden-lady-like’.

‘Adventure’ was tucked away down an alleyway that ran off the cathedral close–a small double-fronted shop with Georgian windows. Erica rented the ground floor only–there were flats above–and there was just enough room for a tiny kitchenette and loo at the back of the shop, and a small stockroom, though thanks to the bijou nature of the premises most of the stock resided on the floor-to-ceiling shelves.