It still astounded him that Mr Mayhood could achieve such accuracy in his drawings. With no feeling in his right hand, he could still manoeuvre the straight edge and balance it, retaining the precision in his lines. He’d go clipping and unclipping from whichever instruments he needed, losing no momentum. When they’d first met one another, Mr Mayhood hadn’t worn the arm at all – there’d been an empty space below the elbow where the sleeve had been rolled up and safety-pinned.

It had been the governor who’d organized his visit. An officer had taken Charlie out of Sunday chapel to escort him to the office. As soon as he’d been let inside, the governor had risen from behind his desk to say, ‘Good morning, Savigear. Please have a seat. You needn’t look so terrified – you’re not in any trouble.’ Mr Mayhood had been at the window with a teacup. The grounds of Huntercombe were framed behind him, still and vacant, grey as pewter. ‘I’d like to introduce you to the man whom you’ll be working for this summer – that’s assuming you keep up the good behaviour till your discharge.’

Right then, Mr Mayhood had stepped forward with a gloss of pride about his eyes. ‘Hello, Charles,’ he’d said, and offered his left hand. ‘So glad to meet you. I must say, your drawing really took my breath away – I mean that. It’s extremely nice to put a face to it, as last. My wife and I are looking forward to your being with us, very much.’ They’d shaken.

‘Good to meet you too, sir. Thank you.’

‘I thought we’d take a little stroll outside. Just half an hour or so. And you can ask me any questions you might have. I’m sure your head is full of them.’

He’d looked towards the governor, who’d said, ‘It’s all right, Savigear. An officer will go out with you. You can join your working party when you’re ready.’

As soon as they had got outside the sky had cracked apart. Instead of doing circuits of the garden and the playing fields, they’d had to be content with standing underneath the covered walkway as the rain fell hard on the parade ground. ‘Well,’ said Mr Mayhood, ‘as you’ve got your stripes already, you can have a smoke now, I suppose.’

‘I would, sir, if I had any.’

‘Oh, I should’ve thought to bring you in a packet.’

‘That’s all right. I’ll scrounge one from a prefect later.’

‘What’s your poison? Woodbines?’

‘Them and rollies, mostly.’

‘Some things never change. And Player’s for the prefects, right?’

‘That’s it.’ The rain had gushed down from the sloping roof and formed a kind of beaded curtain in between them and the trees. ‘How d’you know so much about it all?’

‘Two years in Feltham, that’s how.’

‘As a volunteer, you mean?’

Mr Mayhood’s brow had lifted. ‘No, when I was your age.’

‘Oh.’ His whole perception of the man had altered after that. ‘You couldn’t have been guilty, sir.’