‘Excellent idea,’ said Pearly. It was, but he was narked that he’d been pushed into it and recalled that at one of the planning meetings he’d suggested a trophy in Andrew’s name but not followed up on it. His dislike for Mrs Hollister increased: small, thin, quick head movements like a bird, and the need to be heard in every conversation. ‘You did say, of course, that you get tired of pleas for money,’ he said to her.

‘Oh, this is quite a different matter,’ she said. It would be, thought Pearly.

Although no one mentioned the comparison, Pearly knew that his speech had been one of self-referential, apple-barrel superficiality compared with his classmate’s, and he tried to accept that without resenting Andrew. He needed more wine and went in search of it. With dusk, a breeze had come. Not severe, but noticeable because of the noise it made against the canvas surfaces, and the swaying of the suspended lights as if the whole assembly were afloat on a rising sea. And at a distance in the gloom the plaintive conversation of the wind in the macrocarpas as if from an excluded congregation. With the meal and the speeches over, there was more noise and movement of people in the marquees. Informality increased, and hubs of talk developed as folk felt they could leave their seats or take them to place beside fresh companions. Coming back with a bottle of pinot noir, Pearly stopped to talk to Gumbo. He was sick of Mrs Hollister and had heard sufficient praise of Andrew.

Gumbo was working his way through a plate of brandy snaps, quite unconcerned that others at his table had finished eating. Gumbo was spare, wiry, but could eat a great deal without permanently inflating. Pearly supposed it was because of his physical occupation. Pearly filled his friend’s glass, and they sat close together yet talking loudly because of the noise around them. Gumbo was on a high, the event for him a momentous one in a small-scale life. An opportunity to fraternise with classmates first met fifty years before, and Gumbo was amazed by their transformation from average kids to men of accomplishment and possession. His awe was greater perhaps because he’d never learnt the trick of such advancement himself or considered himself entitled to it. Pearly watched moths in a bewitched and clumsy dance around the dangling bulbs and felt a need to be out of the crush. Everyone seemed to be talking and laughing at once and nothing of significance conveyed.