‘We need to get back,’ said Pearly. ‘I need to be out at the sports ground by nine-thirty to see things get under way okay, and then I have to go into the council to catch up with matters there. I’ve got a couple of appointments and an interview.’

‘I’ve got just about everything,’ said Helen.

‘At least it’s another beaut day. We’ve been so lucky really.’ Pearly was wistful. He would have much rather spent the entire day with the old boys in lighthearted competition.

‘It’ll be more drinking than anything else.’ But her tone was accepting.

‘It’ll be a hoot,’ said Pearly.

‘Nothing’s stopping you being there.’

‘You know there is,’ and Pearly began purposefully pushing the trolley towards the checkout. But Helen countered by strolling off in search of yoghurt and cottage cheese. It was a small test of wills he accepted he was bound to lose.

Despite his fussing, there was time to drop Helen and the shopping home, fulfil his obligations at the sports ground and prepare for a briefing with David and the new Civil Defence officer at eleven. During this, Pearly imagined his fellow old boys competing and joking together at the sports ground. The touch rugby, jumps, volleyball, cricket. The sprints with bald-headed, paunchy executives straining to recapture the lithe speed of their youth.

After lunch and a brief walk in the museum grounds, Pearly returned to his office for a meeting concerning an improved rates rebate policy for low-income citizens. It was one of Pearly’s initiatives. During the discussion Richie rang. It was unusual for him to get in touch during the day.

‘Have you got a moment?’ he asked.

‘I’ve people with me.’

‘It’s about the old Purvis clay house. I can ring tonight, though, no bother.’

‘I’ll get back to you in about fifteen minutes. Okay?’ said Pearly.

‘Fine,’ said Richie.

The rates conversation took up again without Pearly making any reference to the call. Staff were accustomed to all manner of interruptions when with the mayor. The communications officer was talking of the increased public expectation that concessions be available, especially for the elderly. ‘A Mrs Ransumeen has set up a group advocating fixed rates for five years,’ she said. ‘She’s pretty persistent.’ Pearly recalled Mrs Ransumeen and her goose handbag: he could have added ‘exasperating’ to the description.

‘I’ve had her here,’ he said. ‘A rather tiresome woman with a fondness for grievance. She was on about the harbour park, freedom campers and toilets — or rather the lack of them. I don’t favour them there. I don’t know, but there must be some psychological reason why public lavatories attract vandalism.’