‘Don’t know why you’d want to,’ Robin shouted, and this time Jarvis didn’t mind, agreeing with the sentiment.

‘You know, lads . . .’ Ben took his time, choosing his words carefully. ‘This is Merry’s choice.’ He sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees. ‘We know she’s a smart girl, a good girl, and so we have to trust she knows what she’s doing.’

‘Do you like the boy?’ Robin asked the question Jarvis would not have dared to.

Ben ran his hand over his newly shaved chin. ‘Like is a strong word.’ The boys laughed. ‘I thought it’d be a flash in the pan when it first started, but look at us all.’ He ran the flat of his palm over his lapel. ‘One year on, and they’ve hardly been apart. I’ve got to know the boy this last year, and I have to say he’s always polite, compliments the wife’s cooking and brings me a decent bottle of red now and then, so I can’t grumble. Plus, I trust Merry’s judgement; she’s got her head screwed on and she’s been raised right and so I’m willing to welcome him into my family with open arms if he makes her happy.’

‘And if he doesn’t?’ Jarvis blinked.

This time his words needed no such consideration. ‘Then I’ll throttle the little bastard! Or take him for a ride on Sally-Mae in a pair of concrete boots.’

They all chortled.

‘I’m joking, of course. He seems like a nice enough lad. You seen our Merry today, Jarv?’

Jarvis shifted in the chair. ‘I dropped a card in. She was getting ready. All the girls were there.’

‘Why do you think I’m here?’ Ben chuckled. ‘I’m hiding out.’

‘There’s worse places.’ He took in the view.

As he often did on a day like this, Ben had opened the wide wooden hatch, which was effectively one whole side of the room, and lowered it on its chains. It was as if the loft was in the sky itself, as sunshine and warmth touched it and dust particles danced in the rays of light. It was at moments like this that Jarvis found it even harder to fathom his father’s actions. The man had given up a place on Ben’s boat, a seat at his mother’s dinner table and a view like this on idling days. What was it his mum had said? ‘Love can be fickle . . .’ And in some ways he understood, knowing he would have done anything, gone anywhere and given up everything to have Merrin feel about him as he did her.

‘Beautiful day.’ He stared at the water, trying to divert his sadness, and inhaled the warm, salt-tinged breeze that filled the space.