Jim has had too much to drink and Jack now appreciates the reason for Gwen’s concern. He is also struggling to contain his anger at Ted, who seems not only to have condoned the farmer’s inebriation, but actively encouraged it.

‘Just one more?’ Jim slurs, clinging to the tacky bar that seems to be sweating beer.

‘Why not?’ Ted’s eyes shine with alcohol. He holds up his hand to catch the publican’s attention.

‘Don’t you think he’s had enough?’ Jack hisses.

‘What would you know about it?’

‘He can barely speak.’

‘He needs it,’ Ted mutters. He perks up as the publican approaches, but glowers as the man looks ostentatiously at his watch.

‘I rang last orders a quarter of an hour ago, Ted.’

‘One more, Bill.’

Jack looks at his own watch. Beneath the cracked glass, the hands sit at 10.35 p.m. He gets off his bar stool.

‘Jim, it’s nearly time to get Gwen.’

‘Gwen …’ the farmer sings his daughter’s name. ‘My God you should have seen her tonight, Bill.’ He sprawls over the bar, sopping up the spillages with his shirt. ‘She looked so beautiful, the spitting image of my Vera.’

‘One more for the man, for God’s sake, Bill,’ Ted demands, slapping the bar.

Jack catches the publican’s eye. ‘I think we should go.’ He puts his arm around Jim’s shoulders which seem somehow shrunken, weakened by the whisky he’s been downing since the beer slaked his thirst. ‘Let’s get Gwen, Jim.’

Ted grips his arm. ‘I said, let the man have one more drink.’

‘He’s had enough.’

The farmer tightens his hold until his fingers bite into Jack’s flesh like a ferret clamping down on a rabbit’s throat. ‘You know nothing about this man, what he’s been through. You don’t even know the significance of today, do you? So don’t you dare try and tell me what he does and does not need. I know him better than anybody. And I know what he needs and what he needs is one more drink.’

‘Is that why Gwen asked me to watch out for her father? Because she knew you couldn’t be trusted with the task?’ Jack wrenches his arm free.

‘Gwen asked you?’

‘Perhaps I’m better equipped to know when whisky begins to drown the man and not his sorrows.’ Jack cajoles Jim to his feet, but it is his firm arm that keeps the man upright. ‘Now, am I dropping you home as well or are you intending to stagger back?’ he asks Ted.

The three of them head out into the night, to where Jim’s car is parked on the roadside. Jim is stumbling and it is all Jack can do to keep them both on their feet.