‘Jasper had his office in the gym, didn’t he, Pearly? But that was the old gym — not a patch on this,’ said Gumbo.

‘I remember Jasper,’ Stephen said. ‘He was a damn good teacher, too, not just a coach. There were some who couldn’t do either.’

They talked of such teachers, revisiting the ruthless derision of adolescence, and, as they talked, Stephen idly detached one of the climbing ropes from the wall and twirled it to watch the rope undulate far up into the rafters. ‘You were shit-hot on the ropes I remember, Gumbo,’ said Pearly. ‘Like a monkey.’

‘Yeah, a long time ago,’ said Gumbo, but he was pleased to have it recalled. Almost all of Gumbo’s modest successes were schoolboy achievements.

‘I bet you could still shimmy up there, no bloody trouble,’ said Pearly. ‘You never lose those skills.’

‘Take no notice of him,’ said Andrew mildly.

It irritated Pearly somewhat to have Andrew speak against him, even in such a trivial matter and without intending serious opposition. All evening Andrew seemed to have been surpassing him, and without any conscious competition. Gumbo was his friend, not Andrew’s, and he wanted to prove where that allegiance lay. ‘Go on, Gumbo. Show these slackers what a local can do.’

‘You’ve probably had a few glasses too many,’ said Andrew.

‘Go on, Gumbo,’ urged Pearly again.

Gumbo would do almost anything for Pearly. That had always been his way. He grinned and took off his jacket and shoes, spat on his hands, made a long reach up the rope, and began to climb. With each hike he folded the rope over one foot with the other and pressed them together as he stretched higher again. He reached the top with a bit of a struggle and held the large metal ring with one hand, looked down with his mouth agape. ‘Way to go,’ said Pearly in loud encouragement.

Although all three below were watching, none of them afterwards could say just what it was that caused Gumbo to fall. The descent should have been so much easier than climbing up. As Gumbo took his hand from the ceiling attachment, his feet seemed to slip, and he fell suddenly and silently to the floor. Even the sound of the impact wasn’t great, but he lay inert in an ugly and unnatural form beneath the soft sway of the rope, his chin awry, one leg buckled beneath him, the other extended with the dark sock and pale ankle showing.

‘Jesus!’ exclaimed Stephen. The three of them gathered around Gumbo, Pearly going down on his knees and looking into his friend’s face.

‘Better not to move him, I think,’ said Andrew.

‘He’s breathing,’ said Pearly with relief. ‘Gumbo! Gumbo!’

But Gumbo had nothing to say, was barely conscious. Something had happened to the bottom of his face; something was broken there.