“I wish you didn’t hate him,” said Ava, trying to get her breath back.

“I don’t hate him, I think he’s a decent bloke. He hates me, but that’s because he thinks I’m a bad influence. Have some more brandy.”

“I can’t. I’ll be reeling drunk and his mother will hate me even more than she does now.”

“So what if she does? She just feels threatened. You’re better than all of them and they know it.”

“He’s way richer than… ”

Finn pointed a stern finger at her. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“But it makes a difference.”

“Right, forfeit.” He passed her the hip-flask again. “Two fingers.”

“I shouldn’t. Oh, what the hell.”

They sat in silence for a while and watched the sunlight shine through the sycamore leaves and make patterns on the wallpaper.

“You were up late,” Ava said eventually.

“Did I keep you awake?”

“No. I just woke up and saw the living room light was on.”

“I had an idea for a short story about a hunter who catches a goat in the woods.”

“Does he eat it?”

“No. It’s a very beautiful goat, so he decides to keep it as a pet. But the goat knows there’s a bad winter coming, and when things get hard enough the hunter’s going to eat it anyway. On the other hand, the hunter has a really tight hold on the goat, and he has some quite good vegetables in his bag. And back at home, the goat has a family that needs feeding.”

“Carry on.”

“So what the goat does is, it pretends to be delighted and to go along with everything the hunter wants. The hunter says he’s going to build the goat a beautiful cage to live in, with silk cushions and a gold water-bowl and all the cauliflower it can eat.”

“The goat likes cauliflower?”

“Someone has to. And the goat goes along with all of this. But it’s a really long way back to the hunter’s house, and they get a bit lost, and then they’re out in the dark and the cold. So when night falls, they snuggle together under the hunter’s fur cloak.”

“Really? Eww.”

“This is a fairy tale, so it’s okay. Goats are lovely and warm, they run a bit hotter than people, so after a few minutes, the hunter’s really comfortable. He falls asleep feeling safe and cosy, and has the most beautiful dreams. The goat stays with him until dawn, so he doesn’t freeze to death. Then it creeps out from beneath the fur cloak, grabs the hunter’s sack and trots away again. And when he wakes up in the morning, the goat’s gone and all that’s left is a note: Thanks for the vegetables.”

“So now the goat can write?”

“It’s a fairy tale.”

“It might work better with a deer,” said Ava. “Deer are prettier.”

“Deer are thick. Besides, goats can be pretty too.”

“You didn’t say if it was a boy goat or a girl goat. And its family aren’t in it very much.”