‘Florence.’

He nodded. ‘Florence, I should think that you could find your way from here to Argentina without help from anyone. But I’ve lived here all my life – well, give or take – and I was going to show you a few secrets of the city.’

She let him roast a moment in his disappointment, then craned her head to say, ‘Come on, then – guide me, if you must. I was going to catch a tram, but I suppose the weather’s fair enough to go on foot.’

And so they went down Oxford Street in what passed for a fine day in Liverpool – a low sun stranded in a gauze of cloud above the rooftops as far as she could see; a sudden drop in temperature whenever they stepped through the dappled shade of trees; that scouring wind she’d grown accustomed to, now absent. The road withheld a slow procession of delivery vans and hooded trailers; here and there, the backsides of carthorses flashed their tails. Everywhere, the cry of gulls, the brackish tincture of the sea and some pervasive scent like fruitcake left for too long in the oven.

‘You were born and raised here, then?’ she said, while Arthur paced beside her. It was more of a determination than a question.

‘Bootle, mostly.’

‘The city has so many parts. I can’t tell which is which.’

‘Some of them are best avoided. Trust me.’

She didn’t rise to this.

‘Where’d they put you up this year – at Rankin Hall?’ he said.

‘Yes, I rather like it.’

‘Nice out there. You’re right next to the park.’

‘I do feel spoiled. Although we have a warden who’s more like a sergeant major.’

He went quiet for a good few seconds. ‘Have you been to the cathedral yet?’

‘Of course. The first place on my list.’

‘Not bad, eh? As cathedrals go.’

‘Not bad at all.’

‘You think you’ll ever get to build one?’

She gave him a slow, sidelong look. ‘I imagine it’s the sort of thing I’d do eventually. After I’ve retired from building concert halls and opera houses.’ His laugh was like a parent’s admonition: tsk. ‘Is that your grand ambition? A cathedral?’ They had reached Mount Pleasant and her shoes were rubbing on her heels.

‘I think you’ve got to be religious, don’t you? Well, to do it right. And if you’re asking me, the Lord’s got twice as many houses as he needs. I’d rather build for those who serve him.’

‘Schools and hospitals,’ she said. ‘That’s what I’d like to do.’

‘I’ll come and join that practice, any time you like.’

‘Well, that’s our future organized. The rest is easy.’ Her feet were really aching now. ‘Roughly how much further?’

He pointed west. ‘About five minutes over there.’

The conversation lulled and she could hear his strides had syncopated with her own. He was nice to talk to, better than most men she knew: not because he always had the words to interest her or coax out her opinions, but because he let her speak exactly when she wanted to and didn’t take her silences for lack of depth, as others had before. ‘You said give or take. Which means there was a time you weren’t in Liverpool.’