As I came to the garden of The Oaks I caught a glimpse of Syl and Margaret standing very close together and I thought that I must have been mistaken about her. She must have loved Syl to permit him to stand so close to her. I walked on, feeling, not reassured, but confused.

As I turned to walk home again I saw Syl in front of me. Dog put on a spurt to catch up with him, wheezing awfully, his little legs seeming inadequate to his ambitions.

‘Dog,’ I called, ‘wait for me.’

Syl stopped and looked round. He smiled when he saw me and I took his arm.

‘Where’s Margaret?’ I asked.

‘She went in,’ said Syl. ‘She was cold.’

He sounded perfectly relaxed and confident but I thought it odd: strange that a girl in love, with nothing to do that day, should go in because she was cold.

‘Why didn’t she get a coat?’ I asked.

Syl laughed. ‘Because there was no point. I couldn’t stay. I’ve got a game this afternoon.’

Dog had disappeared. ‘Where’s dog?’ I said. ‘Dog, dog...’ I raised my voice. He emerged suddenly from a shallow ditch, a dead leaf over one ear. ‘Come here you little beast.’ I picked him up, all muddy and wet as he was and carried him home.

I had made scones that morning. The smell of them still hung in the air and it broke my heart. It went with the smell of home, and this wasn’t home. I had no home, Syl had no home, dog had no home. We just all lived together. I rubbed dog dry with no affection and no enthusiasm. Dead leaf over one ear or not, I no longer found him endearing. He was just an old dog somebody had given me once. Syl was somebody I had given birth to once and I could only feel sorrow for him. I poured myself a sherry and after a while I felt better.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Syl sharply as he looked in at the sitting-room before going off for his game.

‘Drinking,’ I said.

He stood looking at me for rather a long time without saying anything.

I took no notice. I knew I grew easily fuddled with drink these days. I could hear myself repeating myself. Myself, myself, I thought, sick of myself and my old bones. In the evenings after a few drinks I was no fit company for anyone.

‘I don’t care,’ I said aloud, and Syl made no reply but went off to play his game.