‘Not thatched then,’ Catherine agrees, staring intently. Her eyes are brown, with a hazel rim to the irises that Graeme finds hypnotic. Catherine’s thumb begins stroking the web of skin between Graeme’s own thumb and forefinger, and his voice trembles.

‘Veg patch in the back garden with everything in it – not just the boring stuff like carrots and tomatoes. We’ll have rhubarb and parsnips and that posh, pointy green stuff, what’s it called?’

Catherine looks blank.

‘You know. It sticks up through the ground, all of a sudden.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She looks bored and Graeme panics. He’s lost her, which in his experience can be disastrous.

The word comes to him: ‘Asparagus! You have it in fancy restaurants with butter and that.’

‘Right.’

‘And … and there’ll be dark wood floorboards all through the upstairs. One of them baths with the metal feet that look like animal paws.’

Graeme has an interior-design magazine that he nicked from the doctor’s waiting room. It’s from two years ago and the front cover is missing, but he reads it religiously, holding it like a comfort blanket whenever it seems impossible to think that he and Catherine will ever be together again, that Catherine will ever be released. God knows where they are going to get the money to afford this cottage with its flowers and veg patch and polished floors. Even Graeme realises it’s a far cry from the grim shared flat he’s been living in since his own release. He tucks the magazine in the middle of a pile of bodybuilding magazines by his bed, because every time he gets back from visiting Catherine, something else has been nicked by either the dead-eyed smack addict or the malodorous shoplifter he has to share with. He’s never even set foot in a place like the dream home of his imagination.

‘Claw-foot tub.’

‘That’s the fella. And a big white sink. Fresh flowers in every room.’

‘From our own garden.’

‘Yeah, definitely.’

‘Gym in a shed outside so me doing weights don’t bother you.’

‘Too right. And … nice, non-nosy neighbours.’

Graeme laughs. ‘We can’t arrange that beforehand!’

‘Yes we can,’ Catherine argues. ‘We’ll just be careful. But what if we see our dream house but the neighbours are horrible?’

Graeme frowns, giving this some thought. ‘We’ll vet them first. We won’t let anybody horrible stand in the way of our happiness. And if they do … then they’ll regret it, won’t they?’

Catherine laughs again, looks at her watch then stands up. ‘You’d better go. It’s Cash In the Attic soon and I want to watch it. See you next week. Ta for the fags.’

Graeme feels stricken. He opens his arms for a hug, but Catherine is already waddling away.

4

Meredith