‘And he didn’t. I’m not saying he couldn’t have tried more. Of course he could.’

‘I wish I’d kept in better touch.’

‘He wanted to be someone else.’

‘Most people do. He’s not the only one to mess up his chances.’

‘Yeah. Well.’ He looked over where I was looking. ‘I hope that’s not true. Girlfriend?’

‘I wish.’

Wozza had a hand on her shoulder and was bending over to tell her something.

‘I think you’d better rescue her. Look after the pair of you.’

‘Take care, Mike.’

He raised his fingerless hand and waved bye. ‘Too late for that, pal.’

*

Wozza was still there when I got back with the drinks.

‘I know you,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘We used to see each other on the beach, back in the day.’

‘You used to dance!’ he said. ‘You danced like Jarvis Cocker.’

‘You liked to try to make me.’

‘Go on, do it now.’

‘No.’

‘Go on!’

‘Yeah, go on, Paul,’ said Emily.

I sat down. Wozza glared at me. ‘Only joking, buddy,’ he said. ‘Plenty of time for that later. Emily and I were just getting to know each other.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it.’

I shoved Emily’s gin and tonic towards her.

‘You’re Mr Wright’s son, aren’t you?’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ I said.

‘He taught me English. God, we used to have fun in that class. Worked him right over. What happened to him?’

‘He had a breakdown, left us, moved to Liverpool, then died of a stress-related heart attack.’

‘Er, right. Good one. Ha!’

‘No, he did.’

‘Right. Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. He were a laugh. Much better than the other cunts we had.’ He stood up. ‘I should probably—’

‘Was that why you gave him such a hard time?’ I said.

‘Give over. We were just having a laugh.’

‘I remember watching TV when a brick came through the window. “Sorry, Mr Shite,” someone shouted. He said he recognised the voice. Was it you?’

‘No,’ he said.

‘He was actually trying to do his best for you all.’

‘So? It were his job. He were paid to do that.’

‘Come on, Paul,’ said Emily.

‘I just want you to remember he was a good man; he was a good teacher; he did his best for you.’

‘He were the one with a decent job, a decent salary, long summer holidays. If he weren’t tough enough, it’s not our fault.’

‘Decent job? Teaching here? Fuck off.’