Olive . . . His head was getting increasingly muzzy – it was the lack of air. If death came like that he’d welcome it as a release from this pain because he didn’t think he could stand it much longer. But Olive, Olive would miss him. Somewhere in the depth of him he felt a deep sense of regret that he had never told Olive he loved her. It wouldn’t have been true, but did that matter? He liked her, cared about her after all, and she loved him with a passion that had surprised him more and more over the last months and had invoked in him a secret feeling of gratefulness because it acted like a soothing balm on the part of him that was still raw at Ruby’s rejection. Olive made him feel like a king in their little house and he’d found himself actually looking forward to getting home after a shift. He’d been saving his beer and baccy money since the beginning of the year and unbeknown to her he’d bought her a ring he’d seen in the pawnshop. It had been cheap – with money so tight it had to be – but the bloke in the shop had assured him it was gold even if the three stones were blue glass rather than the real thing. But it was pretty and he knew Olive would like it. It was nothing like the small cluster of diamonds and garnets he’d given Ruby when they’d got engaged, but at least it wouldn’t make Olive’s finger green. He’d been planning to give it to her on Christmas morning once Alice had unwrapped the doll they’d bought her. Olive had been knitting clothes for it for weeks with any scraps of wool she could find; he’d made her laugh when he’d remarked that the doll would be a darn sight better dressed than the rest of them. He liked to make her laugh . . .

‘Walt.’

‘Aye, man?’

‘I – I’ve got a ring for Olive. She never had one apart from the wedding ring with how things were back then, but – it’s for Christmas.’

‘That’s grand.’

‘It’s hidden behind the wardrobe in our bedroom. Make sure she gets it and – and tell her I love her.’

‘Aw, man, what are you on about? You’ll tell her yourself and give her the ring an’ all. Don’t be daft.’

‘Promise me, Walt.’

Walter adjusted his position slightly so he could look down into his brother’s face. He’d always regretted the stupid prank they’d played on Adam, which had had such disastrous consequences for so many people, but never so much as now. His voice choked, he whispered, ‘Oh, lad, lad. I’d give me right arm to go back in time.’