“I keep thinking about Will,” she said suddenly. “I remember you having handstand races down Rochdale Road and then having to pick glass out of your palms. I remember the three of you getting slung out of the Black Horse for horseplay and Will always saying that Francis had started it. I remember Francis coming home and saying that he’d signed up and then knowing with absolute certainty that you and Will would too. Because it always was Francis who started it. I can’t imagine the two of you out there without Will. Everything must be out of balance. I fear for the two of you now.”

He remembered Francis by Will’s grave. He had held up his hands, like a gesture of capitulation, and Harry had noticed that the creases of his palms were picked out in brick dust. He had looked at Harry and then looked away. Something had changed in that instant.

“We’ll watch each other’s backs now,” Harry assured her.

“Will you?”

“As much as we can.”

“Why doesn’t that fill me with confidence?”

What was it that he had seen in Edie’s eyes at that moment? As she stopped and turned toward him, she looked as if she were about to say more, but then had changed her mind.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Just be careful, eh?”

They carried on up the driveway. He watched their side-by-side feet on the gravel and felt a great weight of unsayable words.

“Here,” she said, her footsteps stopping abruptly. “I want you to have this.” She pulled a ribbon over her head and handed it to him.

“What it is?”

“It’s a Saint Christopher. It was my grandmother’s. She believed it was lucky.”

“I wondered what the ribbon was. I haven’t seen you wearing it before.”

“I didn’t. I haven’t. It’s been quite a year, though, hasn’t it? I’m not sure that I believe in luck, but I figured that it was worth a chance.”

“You can’t give me this.”

“Yes, I can. It’s mine to do with as I choose, and I choose to give it to you. I can’t vouch for its luck-delivering properties, but it can’t do any harm, can it?”

“No.” He looked at the gray metallic medal in his palm. The ribbon was still warm. He closed his fingers around it. “I want to say something to you. If I don’t say it now, I might never say it.”

She looked down as she shook her head. “Harry—”

“I am permitted to make a fool of myself because I might die tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? In Altrincham?”

“I’m not being literal.”

“You are being dramatic.” Edie pushed her hair behind her ears and put the beret back on. She smiled at him and widened her eyes. “You might not die tomorrow, and then what a fool would you feel?”