Isaac tutted again and started sealing up his own box, even though from what Ben saw it was barely a third full, let alone half.

Isaac caught him looking, and he turned away. When Ben glanced again, Isaac was still staring.

‘You’re not fooling anyone, you know,’ he said. ‘You do realise that, don’t you?’

Ben was focused on moving books from one box to the other. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Whatever game it is you’re playing. You’re not fooling anyone.’

Ben stopped what he was doing and turned to Isaac, who started on filling another box.

‘What do you mean? What game?’

Isaac shot Ben a look. ‘You tell me. Why is it you’re here, really? I know you’re not interested in religion. And I know you’re not the type to volunteer out of the goodness of your heart. So, what is it you’re up to?’

Ben opened his mouth to answer, but found himself at a loss for what to say.

‘How are we all doing?’

Oblivious to the mood in the room, Father Steiner bumbled cheerfully through the doorway of the vestry. He dropped the boxes he was carrying on to the floor, and brushed his hands together theatrically. His glasses had edged towards the tip of his nose, and he used a knuckle to nudge them higher. ‘Excellent work, Isaac,’ he said as he noticed the stack of boxes at Isaac’s feet.

Isaac reached for the packing tape to seal up yet another box, and Ben could see him struggling not to broadcast his pride. He was like a little kid or something. Or a puppy receiving praise for not having peed on the floor.

‘Although’ – Father Steiner’s smile faltered slightly as he edged close enough to see over Isaac’s shoulder – ‘you could probably make the boxes just a bit fuller.’ He chuckled. ‘It’s no wonder we were running out if the rest of them are as empty as this one.’ He turned to Ben, whose pile was smaller. But the two boxes on the table in front of him were now both exactly half full.

‘Now that’s more like it,’ said the chaplain, clapping a hand on Ben’s shoulder. ‘Isaac, do you see? Try to follow Ben’s lead.’