Then I cram it in my mouth. I can’t even remember the last time I ate. The deep caramel notes of the cheese and the spicy pungent hit of the mustard seems like the best combination ever. Time slips by, and when the platter’s clear and we’re on our third bag I finally feel relaxed enough to tell Joel about the boat, and everything that’s happened since. He listens quietly, only getting up to start the fire about halfway through, though obviously thinking it was maybe a little insensitive he sits back down again without lighting it. Joel’s never been the best listener, he just can’t help getting into the conversations himself, but tonight he’s quiet, taking in what I’m saying. By the time I’m finished – how long has it been? – my throat’s rasping dry so I crack open the can he’d handed me earlier and finish it in two long draws.

‘Fuck, man, that’s rough,’ he’s saying as I crush it in my hand.

He’s been relaxed, lying back on the sofa. But now he shifts upright.

‘You know cannabis doesn’t make me paranoid, right?’

‘Me neither, why?’

‘Because all this stuff you’ve been telling me, about the Biotech company …’ He pauses and bites his lip. ‘Okay, it’s like this. You know I was in that world for a while, and frankly the longer I stayed in it the more spooked I got.’

‘Why?’

He picks up a used cocktail stick and rolls it between his fingers.

‘What is it that any drug company needs? Sick people, right? But not just any sort of sick people; if you die of a heart attack, you’re no longer any use to them. But what if you get some disease which only kills you much slower? Now that’s what they want, because that gives them something they can work with, possibly years and years where you can be consuming medication. Expensive, patented medication. Doesn’t cure you. In fact, most of the time it just gives you other problems, though thank God in heaven they have another pill for those as well. You go to the doctor because your knees hurt and in two years you’re taking ten different pills and you’ve basically become a cash cow. And you’ve probably laid down the foundations of a real problem.’

‘You don’t need to tell me that. I’m flushing my whole prescription each month. Must be costing the health service a bomb.’