He stood there looking forlorn and his voice cracked as he said, “I won’t let them beat me, I’ll find another job . . .” He shook his fists in the air in frustration and yelled, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it! So help me God, I didn’t do it . . .”

The telephone rang and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He stared at it as it continued to shrill.

Moyra sighed. “I’ll get it. If it’s another of those filthy bloody perverts . . . And those kids next door . . .”

She picked up the phone but said nothing for a second or two, then, “Oh, hallo, Doris . . . Yes, just a minute.”

She turned to George. “It’s your mum, it’s a payphone.”

He shook his head, unable to face speaking to her.

“You’ll have to talk to her, come on, love.”

He pulled himself up and took the receiver. Moyra was astonished that he could sound so bright.

“Hallo, Mum! I’m fine, yeah. How’s your hip? It is?” He whispered to Moyra, “She’s only using one stick now!”

He listened awhile, then answered, “Thanks, Mum, I wish the cops felt the same way. You know what they’re like . . . I’m sorry, they’re talking to everyone I know.”

Moyra watched him closely until he put the phone down and stood there, dejected.

“You never even mentioned you’ve no job, you should have told her.”

“It wasn’t necessary.”

“It will be when you can’t pay for her ‘residential home.’ ” Moyra couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

“I’ll manage, man with my experience can always get work. Things’ll be OK, I’ll go and see her. Will you get me the perfume she likes?”

Moyra wanted to weep; his whole life was turned upside-down, and hers, and he was asking her to buy perfume.

“She must have a drawerful.”

“I like to take her something, you know that. I’m all she’s got.”

“You’re all I’ve got too, George!”

He gave her a sweet, gentle smile, showing his perfect teeth, his slanting, wonderful eyes. She loved him to bursting sometimes.

“I’ll get us a cup of tea.” She didn’t mean to sound abrupt, it just came out that way.

When Jane arrived home that night, later than she had promised, she wanted nothing more than a hot bath and to crash out.

As she walked into the bedroom, Peter took one look at her face. “I suppose you don’t want to go out to eat? Want me to get a takeaway?”

“Oh, yeah, but first I want a shower.”

“I booked a court, didn’t the message get to you?”

She looked at him and realized that he had been playing squash. “I’m sorry, love, I’ve been in and out of the station. I meant to call, but I kept getting waylaid.”