‘That’s the house there, on the left,’ she said. She would say nothing. She did not wish to appear inexperienced and naïve. It was wonderful to see Claud. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she said, which was partly true. ‘This is an enterprising neighbourhood,’ she said. ‘There is a whole range of classes and lectures one can join: ecology, sociology, psychology, literature, art, archaeology—I was reading the list in the chemist.’

‘Which will you take up?’

‘I thought psychology would help me most.’ Claud laughed. In the old days she might have felt diminished. ‘No need to mock,’ she said. ‘Here we are. This is the house. Let me see what I can give you for lunch.’

‘Anything will do.’ He wished he had given her warning, she was such a good cook; living alone she probably didn’t bother much. ‘What an agreeable kitchen,’ he said. ‘Shall I put your shopping away?’

‘Thank you.’

‘I took you at your word about the whisky.’

‘I meant you to. What about a risotto?’

‘Delicious.’ He was relieved.

While Margaret prepared the risotto, Claud explored the house. He had been miffed when she moved so suddenly, chose a house without consulting him, left him to come and find her; it did not fit the picture he had composed for himself of a tiresomely possessive parent. She had lived here solo, perfectly happy, for several months. As he went from room to room, finding familiar furniture in new poses, he began to rearrange his picture of his parent. Peering at the newly framed photographs of himself and his father he questioned rather uncomfortably whether he had not perhaps joined his father as a figure from his mother’s past? Been cast off?

He shed this discomfort at lunch. While his mother talked about her new neighbourhood, the charms and conveniences of the village, he described the small triumphs of his stall. His book, he told her, was progressing. He was grateful, he said, for the money she sent Ann. Could she afford it? Should he not be independent?

‘I like to help if I can,’ she said. She was pleasurably surprised talking to him. He did not contradict, as he always had on principle, or smack her down when she ventured a political opinion contrary to his own. He was grown more civilised. He even laughed at her jokes. I shall not spoil this by mentioning Laura, she thought. She was reminded of the happier times with her husband.