‘I’ll feel ashamed, Michael – will that make me feel better? I am ashamed, because I made myself sick on the carpet – so I am not going to tell you anything. I will have one sip, to keep out the wind.’

He passed her the cup and watched her lips. He took it back and she watched his. The whisky rolled over his gums, as it had the previous day, and he tasted the oak and the spring water. The caverns of despair were still visible, as were cloud formations he could not name, and Vicky the Tomatin tour guide appeared briefly, with all the interesting facts he’d now forgotten. He saw Amy’s face again, and felt only shame. She turned into Monica, and Elizabeth – and suddenly it was his mother. He looked at his hands and saw they were still doing their job, holding the little cup steady – they were still able to pick things up and put them down. There was more chocolate and more whisky. There was a bag of unopened crisps and two small bottles of mineral water.

‘What were you going to do in the Highlands?’ she said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Tell me.’

‘I don’t know what you’re asking.’

Maria smiled.

‘Yes, you do,’ she said. ‘You told me you were looking for a railway track. First Crewe, and then the Highlands, so that’s what I’m asking. What were you going to do, when you found this track?’

‘I was…’

‘You were going to kill yourself, Michael. Weren’t you?’

He nodded.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I thought it was… probably for the best. It did seem like the best option, all things considered.’

They sat in silence for a long time, watching the weather.

‘You want to meet my family?’ she said.

‘That would be nice. One day.’

‘You want to meet them now?’

He looked at her.

‘How?’

‘Be truthful, please. Do you want to meet my family?’

‘Yes,’ said Michael. ‘Very much.’

30

Maria delved in her bag and pulled out something flat, in a plastic case. She opened it to reveal her tablet.

‘I think you’re lying to me now,’ she said softly.

‘About what?’

‘You’re being polite. You’re saying what you have to say, but—’

‘I want to meet them very much,’ said Michael. ‘Or see them, at least. You’ve got photographs?’

‘Oh, yes – and I get revenge now.’

The tablet was coming to life.

‘You do know the Philippines?’ she said. ‘You remember where they are?’

‘Near Japan.’

‘The South China Sea – very good. Okay, first we have Jao. This is my husband.’

She was flipping folders open, and the first picture she enlarged showed a robust man with close-cropped jet-black hair and Chinese eyes.

‘Jao,’ she said. ‘We were married twelve years ago. Sweethearts from the same barangay, nice wedding – this is him now, you see? Very strong.’

Michael saw the same man in jeans and a T-shirt.