As Pearly undressed later beside the bed, Kevin rang from Auckland, and Helen leant over to her side table and took up the phone. They talked briefly before she handed over to Pearly, who was propped up on two pillows waiting his turn. ‘Yeah, I’m sorry to be ringing so late. It’s just that I’ve found out I need to come through to Dunedin day after tomorrow, and I thought I’d get a rental in Christchurch and drive down for a night with you, then go on south. How does that sound? Mum says she doesn’t think you’ve got anything on.’

‘It’ll be fine,’ said Pearly. ‘I can shift some appointments around. Any time together’s a bonus.’ It would be a rare meeting. The closeness they had once shared as father and son hadn’t survived Kevin’s attainment of adulthood. He was pleased, however, that Kevin was taking the trouble to call. Pearly would make him feel welcome; he would try harder for warmth and rapport.

‘Good one,’ he said to Helen. ‘I’m glad he’s going to call in, and it’ll break his trip.’ He discarded the second pillow and lay down, but almost immediately sat up again. ‘What time will it be in Cardiff?’ Contact with his son made him think of Leanne, with whom he had a much stronger bond and better understanding. And she had the boys, the small grandchildren that Pearly and Helen longed to be with.

‘Mid-morning,’ Helen said. ‘Eleven o’clock or thereabouts, but she’ll be working. Don’t bother them. We’ll Skype tomorrow when they’re all together. When Kevin’s with us too. They’ll both like that.’

‘I miss her. I miss them all. She and Rory seem happy, don’t they? I just wish they lived closer. The boys aren’t growing up as Kiwis. They’ll be Poms.’

‘As long as they’re happy. And they’ll be Welsh Poms anyway. Can you have Welsh Poms?’

‘They’ll become little Poms who don’t know how to do a decent day’s work.’

‘Oh, stop grumping and go to sleep,’ said Helen.