‘I wouldn’t mind a hideout myself,’ she said. ‘Somewhere like this.’ She stepped up to where he was sitting and reached past his shoulder to open the manuscript on the desk.

‘It’s funny,’ she said, turning over the pages, ‘how this makes sense to you and none at all to me. What’s this here? This bit?’

He twisted in the seat and looked to where her finger pointed. ‘It says, Who here is cruel enough to leave a brother behind? A father underground? A sweetheart in hell?’

‘You don’t like me looking at it,’ she said, standing back.

Alec pushed the manuscript to the edge of the desk. ‘It just reminds me how much I still have to do. That’s all.’

‘You’ll get it done.’

‘I’ll have to.’

‘You will.’

‘You’ve been very kind to us,’ he said.

‘I haven’t done so much.’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Really kind.’

‘It’s my job,’ she said.

‘Even so.’

‘May I?’ She gently lifted his glasses from his face. ‘I can’t talk to you with these on. You look like a hit-man.’

‘Sorry.’ He took the glasses from her and unclipped the shade attachment. Una leaned against the whitewashed wall, watching him.

‘I know it’s an awful time for you all,’ she said. ‘And people sometimes think it goes on and on for ever. Always the same. But it doesn’t.’ She paused as if to gauge whether or not she was making any sense to him. ‘People think they’ll never be happy again.’

‘Happy?’

‘Yes,’ she said, smiling broadly. ‘Remember happy?’

‘I’ve no idea what you think of me,’ he said.

‘What do you think I think?’

He shook his head.

‘Well...’ She paused. ‘I think you’re a good person.’

‘Really?’

‘A good son. Does that surprise you so much?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘It shouldn’t.’

‘Are you happy?’ he asked.

‘My father used to tell us that happiness and unhappiness are two dogs that follow each other around. When you saw one, the other wasn’t far off. He didn’t really believe in happiness. Not as something you spent your life trying to get.’

‘What did he believe in?’

She shrugged. ‘The Pope. Not getting into debt. Cleaning the heels of your shoes as well as the toes. I think he was saving the family wisdom for the boys.’ She fell silent, watching him. ‘You’re in a dream,’ she said.

‘Sorry.’

‘You want me to ask Larry to do her medicine tonight?’

‘It’s easier for me,’ he said.

‘If you’re sure.’

‘I’m sure.’

He walked to the door of the summerhouse with her. A breeze loaded with grass smells and soil smells and the warm ozonous whiff of the air itself blew the fine ends of a dozen hairs across her cheeks.

‘You know how to get hold of me,’ she said. ‘You’ll be all right?’