As he stood in the darkened street now, sensible of the scents of lavender and macrocarpa, it was Deidre’s private life that interested him, that gave complexity and nuance to a personality he’d disregarded in the past. Helen came out onto the decking, outlined by the living-room lights. ‘Where are you, Pearly?’ she said, her voice not raised but carrying in the still night air.

‘Coming,’ he said, and he left the shattered glass of Gumbo’s wine bottle and walked back up the drive to his home.

THIRTEEN

Not long after his re-election, Pearly chaired another meeting of the school reunion committee. Nancy Lowe congratulated him formally, saying he was one of the most outstanding of the school’s old boys and someone who had given sustained support to it in both a public and private capacity. ‘You’re a real asset,’ she said, ‘and I have exciting news of another distinguished old boy. Andrew Nisse is coming to visit his mother and thinks he can align that with the celebrations. We did a bit of research, and as far as we know he’s only the fifth old boy to be knighted and the first for years.’

‘The others were politicians so don’t really count,’ chipped in Warwick Jardine, the principal. It wasn’t completely true, but near enough for a jibe at those in the Beehive.

‘I thought we’d invite him to give a speech at the dinner,’ said Nancy. ‘What do you think, Pearly? He was your vintage, wasn’t he?’

That was a name from the past — Andy Nisse. They’d been contemporaries of course, in the same form class for all their secondary schooling. Pearly head boy in the year that Andrew was dux. They hadn’t been close friends, but not enemies either. Andrew, a slender, pale, big-nosed kid who was hopeless with girls but outstanding at maths and science. Andrew, a quiet, industrious student with a few mates of similar disposition. Pearly, the visible and sometimes boisterous leader of the common throng.

‘I suppose he was a real nerd,’ said Warwick but without disparagement, for teachers have a fondness for swots.

‘Yes, but he was good at badminton: that one physical thing,’ said Pearly. Rugby and cricket had epitomised winter and summer sport in Pearly’s time at school. No other games had much mana, but Pearly could remember once watching Andrew playing badminton at the stadium, and playing well. ‘I read in the paper about his work in fiscal modelling, but I couldn’t understand it,’ he said.