For once in his life Peter Renshaw looked at an attractive woman without seeing her breasts, eyes, hair, legs. He knew what was wrong with George. This place was his life. His refuge.

‘Did it ever occur to you that maybe the man knows he’s finished? That he’ll never work again? That tens of young men and women are waiting to fill any job he might be eligible for? That he’s got a wife and home?

‘Of course it didn’t, Mrs Denham, because you never think of anyone but yourself and this bloody firm. Well, when your turn comes - and it will, my love, make no mistake about that - I hope whoever axes you does it with a bit more tact.’

With that, he walked from the room and left Josephine Denham with her mouth agape.

On the table was the piece of paper she had handed to George. She picked it up and stared at it. Twelve thousand pounds. It wasn’t much for fifteen years.

Elaine was fed up with lying in bed and had decided to get up. After making herself a cup of tea and reading the paper in the kitchen she decided she needed something to take her mind off things. She looked at the garden as she washed up her cup and a thought occurred to her. She could germinate the tomato seeds. Every year at this time George popped them into the airing cupboard ready to go into his greenhouse. Then all summer they would have big fat red juicy tomatoes.

She went upstairs and got dressed. Her aching head was feeling much better after a couple of aspirins. She pulled an old jumper carefully over her head and put on a pair of tracksuit bottoms. Elaine was a woman who needed to be doing something. That was why the house was so spotlessly clean. If she had five minutes to herself then her thoughts wandered to the way she lived and it made her depressed.

She made her way down to the garden shed. It smelt musty, like sheds should, and she looked around her. George had it quite cosy really. This was his little domain. His refuge. He spent a great deal of time here.

Suddenly, Elaine felt like an interloper. She shrugged. This was as much her shed as George’s. He had the gardening sorted out like she did the house. His and hers.