I slept once he finished blundering about in the bathroom, an activity suggestive of wordless resentment. Now that I knew where he was I didn’t dream. In the morning I was up well ahead of him. By the time I’d evaluated the last of the essays, he was still in bed. I took a fierce coffee to the spare room, where he peered blearily at me from his lair of a thin quilt, which concealed him up to his eyes on the converted sofa. “Will you be very much longer?” I said.

His voice was pretty well as indistinct as an announcement that came from the station. “Supposed to be the holidays.”

“That’s no reason to waste the day. Do you sleep this late at your mother’s?”

His eyelids sagged shut, reaching for sleep or so he wouldn’t have to look at me. “Thought you wouldn’t care.”

“If you mean I won’t mind, I rather do. You mustn’t think I’ll let you get away with everything she doesn’t like you doing. What will you have for breakfast?”

“Not much.”

“You need to have something,” I said as my mother would have. “I’ll leave this here. I hope it wakes you up.”

I planted the mug on the floor beside the sofa, where the aromatic steam made for his face. When an unenthusiastic hand strayed from beneath the quilt I went next door to the kitchen. As bacon sputtered in the pan I heard Roy stumble to the bathroom. I wondered if the smell had proved too cloying, but it appeared to have enticed him. I was setting out the rest of breakfast – rolls, mustard, orange juice – when Roy wandered into the kitchen, naked except for underpants patterned with miniature leaves. “Can I have some more coffee?” he said.

“Your medication is right here.” I refilled his mug, which was lagged with an image of a book cover, Thelma’s painting of a red phone box in a rainforest. Was a vague shape lurking upright in the box? Perhaps it was the shadow of a tree trunk. I watched Roy grimace as he took a gulp of coffee, after which he loaded a roll with bacon spread with mustard and gazed hard at the result. “How are you feeling?” I had to ask.

“Expect I’ll feel better later.”

“Just remember you did it to yourself. I’m sure I’ve felt like you do right now, but it wasn’t at your age or even nearly.”

“Shouldn’t think you ever have.”

“It’s not a contest, Roy.” His dully smug look prompted me to ask “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s too now.”

“If we’re talking about drugs, please stay away from them. You’ve no idea what the side effects may be.” Since his silence admitted as much I said “What was it and where did you get it?”