They are lost in their own thoughts as they walk side by side towards the car. Jack cannot see Jim inside and he immediately fears the farmer has roused and taken it into his head to go wandering. He quickens his pace, leaving Gwen to trot awkwardly in her heeled shoes. He is relieved beyond measure to see the farmer’s inert body curled across the back seat. When Gwen reaches the passenger side, she places her palm to the glass and peers in; her expression dissolves into one of profound sadness.

‘Oh.’

Once they are inside, she swivels round to lay a fleeting hand on her father’s knee, before turning back to face the front. Jack starts the engine.

‘I thought perhaps …’ She leaves the comment suspended, incomplete.

The engine whines as he reverses out from his parking spot, but it ceases to complain once back in forward gear.

‘He couldn’t have driven,’ Jack says.

‘No.’ Gwen drops her gaze to her lap where her silver bag glints through the dimness. ‘And Ted? He was as bad, I suppose?’ Her question has a sharp edge to it.

‘He didn’t dissuade him, let’s put it that way.’

Gwen nods and looks out of her window.

‘Ted told me.’ He tears his eyes away from the indistinct road before him to meet her gaze. ‘He explained the significance of the day.’

She abruptly cuts off her bark of bitter laughter. ‘Yes. The anniversary of my mother’s death.’ She glances at the back seat. Her soft sigh conveys so much unhappiness that Jack yearns to reach out and comfort her, but he thinks better of it and keeps his hands firmly on the wheel. There is something about the close confines of the darkened car that is gloriously intimate and he is more aware of her now than ever before.

‘I shouldn’t have gone out …’ He strains to make out her low words. ‘He used to get like this every year. Ted would take him down the pub to get his mind off it and he’d come back … blind drunk. Then, a couple of years ago I said, “No more.” I wouldn’t let him go. Instead, we sat together listening to the wireless and we talked a bit about Mum … that seemed like a much more fitting memorial than …’ Jim’s snore rattles behind them. Gwen bites her lip. ‘I thought he’d just stay at home with you, I thought it’d be all right. I didn’t expect him to go out … and I so wanted to come tonight. I promise you, Jack, this is out of character for him. He would never usually—’

‘When grief possesses a man, he becomes capable of excesses he would never have dreamed of.’ Jack knows this better than anyone. He clears his throat, embarrassed to have been so unguarded. ‘It’s not your fault, Gwen. I’m just sorry I couldn’t stop him.’