Later that afternoon, Tommy said to Malcolm, “Would it be all right if I used the washing machine?”
He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, holding his arms across his body: a self-protective gesture, it seemed to Malcolm.

“Of course.”

Tommy appeared to hesitate. “I didn’t bring many clothes. I’m not sure why. I suppose I was hurrying and . . . I wasn’t thinking.”

“We can put a load on now,” Malcolm said. “But I have some things I can lend you, too.”

He saw Tommy hesitating again over this, presumably weighing the awkwardness of borrowing his uncle’s clothes against the awkwardness of having no clothes at all. Finally, he said, “O.K. Thanks.”

While Tommy sorted out his washing, Malcolm went through the drawers in his bedroom, pulling out old jeans, T-shirts, a pullover, socks, and underwear (this part felt especially uncomfortable, but better Tommy had it than didn’t, he decided). He left the clothes in a small, neat pile on Tommy’s bed and went downstairs to see how Tommy was coping with the vagaries of his ancient washing machine.

“So connect the two tubes to the taps and check for leaks before you turn the taps on,” he told Tommy.

“The kitchen taps?” Tommy said.

“That’s right. It’s not plumbed into the mains. And check the bungee cord’s securing the door before you switch the machine on. The catch is broken. And sometimes it stops halfway through the cycle, and then you just whack it a few times and it’ll usually start up again.” He paused, then added, “Oh, and ignore the rattling noise. There’s some part loose but it doesn’t seem to do any damage.”

“Malcolm,” Tommy said, frowning at the frayed bungee cord. “I don’t want to overstep the mark, but . . . do you think it might be time you got a new washing machine?”

“You sound just like Heather,” Malcolm said. “And I’ll say to you what I always said to her. If it’s getting the clothes clean, then what’s the problem?”

“She was a patient woman,” Tommy murmured, checking the door was secured, before gingerly turning on the taps and then the machine itself. The kitchen was immediately filled with a deafening rumbling and churning. Tommy leapt in shock and then laughed.

“This is a ridiculous machine,” he said.

Malcolm decided not to be offended. He liked seeing Tommy laugh. Tommy was still grinning and shaking his head as he went back upstairs.

By the time Tommy reappeared, Malcolm had made a start on tea. Tommy was now dressed in an assortment of Malcolm’s old clothes, and it seemed to embarrass him. Malcolm carefully avoided commenting, but he was glad to see Tommy wearing more sensible clothes, and especially a thick jersey.

“Beans on toast O.K.?” he said.