‘I didn’t ask you to,’ said Bea. ‘I have never asked you for anything. And I never will. If you could –’ her mind went blank. Her voice sounded weak. She swallowed. ‘– be polite. That would be better.’

She left the room. The moment she was away from him, outside the door, tears came painfully into her eyes. They didn’t last long.

She didn’t tell Dan. She recovered alone. When she saw Griff, later in the day, she met him like a lion tamer and did not show fear.

‘You and me flank Alex,’ she said to Dan before dinner. ‘We’ll sit either side of him. There’s safety in numbers.’

Alex made the dinner and she and Dan helped.

‘Don’t let either of them stop you, in the hall, or anywhere, or take you aside. We’ll stick together.’

Alex enjoyed the game. ‘Thank fuck you’re here,’ he said. ‘It’s so different.’

Even at the table, when there was no chance of privacy, she made sure to keep catching Alex’s eye, so he wouldn’t forget, she sent him fortitude, reminding him of himself.

They’ll be gone soon, her look said. Fuck them.

It was still raining. They ate in the dining room. Quiches from the freezer. Liv hadn’t wanted to let Alex leave her to go to the shops. Pastry, eggs, cheese. Liv’s worst foods combined. The quiches were small and circular and slipped about on an oval plate. They made a salad to go with them, the leaves wet from being washed and the dressing sliding off and sugary.

‘Christ,’ said Griff. ‘Tomorrow we eat out.’

He talked about America through most of dinner ‘So Donald Trump is a despicable human being, so what? Look what he’s done for America.’ Liv talked about the refurbishment of the hotel.

‘I need to come down much more often,’ she said. ‘We didn’t realise how much work the old place would need, did we, darling? When we first saw it? We just fell so in love with it. Maybe we should move builders in, and you out and do it properly.

‘No, it’s OK,’ said Alex. ‘I’m doing it. I’m learning.’

Griff boomed on. Brexit. ‘Totally incompetent. Government is over. They should have left it to the guys in finance. Clean break.’ This led him to Danger. Memories of planes he had flung himself from. Black runs he had conquered. Shark-populated reefs he had perused. Then his thoughts moved on to beauty. Faraway places. Rarity. The difficulty of purchasing truly special things. Acquisitions thwarted by the fetish of conservation.

‘Preserve the landscape for the nation. Save the crested newt. Nobody really cares about the rare species of fuck-knows-what, they just love obstruction. Meddling –’ He stopped. He stared at Bea. ‘You look like you’ve swallowed a lemon,’ he barked. ‘Come on, Ms Snowflake.’

‘What?’ said Bea.

‘Nothing to say? Won’t you lower yourself to debate with me?’

‘It’s not a debate,’ Bea answered. ‘You’re just talking.’

‘All right.’ Griff rubbed his hands together. ‘Take the floor. Let’s have a sermon.’