‘Except his mother,’ said Clara, ‘who calls him Laurence. I think you could take your pick.’

‘Get the poor man a drink and stop being tiresome, Clara.’ She sat down beside Lar and smiled at him. ‘Clara is the most tiresome of my four children.’

Lar blushed again.

‘Whiskey, gin or white wine?’ asked Clara.

‘Well, ah, whiskey would be very nice. Thank you.’

Clara clinked and rattled in a corner of the room.

‘Have you known each other long?’

Clara laughed.

‘No. Just a couple of days,’ he said.

‘Oh.’

‘Clara very kindly …’

‘Don’t let her bully you.’

Clara walked across the room and put a glass down in front of each of them.

‘… very kindly asked me to stay with her.’

‘Just for a couple of days,’ said Clara. She went back across the room and poured herself a glass of wine. ‘My better nature coming into play. And that is that. We will now talk of other things.’

There was a silence.

‘Shoes and ships and sealing wax and—’

‘Clara!’

‘Sorry, Mother.’

‘What have you been doing since you arrived, Laurence?’

‘Nothing really. Taking the dog for walks. I’m not—’

‘He’s sick,’ said Clara. ‘In the head.’

‘Clara!’

‘I thought you might be able to sort him out. He needs a mother.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. Is your mother …?’

‘Ballycastle. My mother’s alive and well and living near Ballycastle.’

Clara’s mother sighed.

‘I think we’d better go and have our dinner,’ she said.

It was still raining when they walked home, both close together under the umbrella.

‘Your mother’s nice,’ he said.

‘Mmmm.’

The rain pattered on the nylon arc above them and slid off onto their shoulders. The sound of water filled their ears, tumbling, splashing, running, their feet squelching through puddles. The wind blew sparkling drops across the surface of the road.

‘She gets up my nose.’

‘I can’t think why.’

‘She’s too fucking nice! I don’t like people who are all nice – it makes me feel soooo inadequate. And she knows me too well. Lots of parents don’t know their children at all, don’t even bloody want to know the realities of their children. It’s too disturbing for them. But she knows everything. Well, almost everything. I do have a few secrets, but I have to fight hard to keep them. People need secrets, don’t you think?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Do you always sit on the fence? Say perhaps or maybe? Possibly? Is that the sort of person you are? Someone who sits all the time on fences?’

‘I don’t like being bullied. Your mother said—’

‘I like people to answer my questions.’

‘So did the Gestapo.’

She gave a little spurt of laughter and then gasped. She stopped walking for a moment and took a deep breath, her hand grasping at her side. She shook her head towards him.

‘Ouch,’ she said. ‘Laughing is not allowed. Such a bugger.’ She took his arm and they walked slowly on in silence.

By the time they reached her garden gate the moon had forced its way out from behind a cloud and everything had become silver and black, black trees dripping silver drops, silver roofs shining, and black valleys between the houses. She turned towards him and touched his face.