As they drew closer, Tommy said, “She was friends with my mother.”

“Aye,” Malcolm said. But Katrina had found Fiona hard work—Malcolm was sure he remembered Heather passing that on to him once, a rare indiscretion for both women. And indeed Fiona was hard work, an anxious person. She wanted too much from other people, that was what Malcolm thought it was. Every conversation with her felt effortful, as though she must always be coming up too close to you. But she was a good sort of woman.

“I daresay she’ll want to stop and chat,” he said while Fiona was still out of earshot, wanting to convey the idea that her chatting would not be like Ken’s chatting.

Tommy said nothing. He put his hands in his pockets with, Malcolm thought, the air of someone bracing themselves for an ordeal.

“Malcolm,” Fiona called out, still ten yards away. “Lovely morning. Nice and bright.” As she came closer, she said, “And this must be Tommy, of course.” Her eyes were on Tommy the whole time, barely grazing Malcolm.

Tommy nodded, and Malcolm added, feeling more was necessary, “That’s right. Tommy, you remember Fiona?”

“Yes,” Tommy said. “Hello.”

“It’s been such a long time,” Fiona said to Tommy. “You were just a bairn when I saw you last. Now look at you.”

Tommy didn’t appear to have a reply to this.

“So what have you been doing with yourself?” Fiona said, as the pause threatened to become awkward. “Where are you living now?”

“London,” Tommy said. “The last few years, anyway.”

“London.” She drew out the two syllables. “Really? Well, that must be an exciting place to live. Lots going on, I’m sure. Very different to here.”

She was speaking faster than usual, Malcolm thought. And there was something in her manner—she wasn’t at ease at all. It occurred to him then that perhaps she had been no more eager for this encounter than they had. The idea distressed him on Tommy’s behalf.

“Aye,” he said. “Tommy’s used to a different pace of life now.”

“And what do you do in London?” Fiona said. “For work?”

“I’ve done a few different things,” Tommy said, and it was brought home to Malcolm again that he knew almost nothing about Tommy’s life, or how he’d supported himself over the past decade. He’d finally managed to ask Tommy rather tentatively the night before what it was he did for a living, but all Tommy had said was, “This and that. Admin stuff mostly,” and then hadn’t seemed to want to discuss it further. He was being similarly evasive with Fiona now. Still, it was true that Tommy’s life was none of their business.

Fiona seemed disconcerted by Tommy’s laconic response. But she lived here, Malcolm reminded himself. Surely she was used to reticent men.