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To please him they had gone to Evans, Society Photographer, and posed in front of a turquoise backdrop that developed as a grey, Flanders sky. Evans posed them standing back-to-back, heads tilted towards each other, arms folded across their chests. Paul had tried hard to keep a straight face, concentrating on the sharpness of Rob’s shoulder blades through the thickness of their tunics. Neither smiled, and because their caps shaded their eyes they didn’t look ironic as they had intended, only fierce.

Her father repeated his question and Paul stood up abruptly. ’ As he left the room Daniel sighed. He sat back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. ’ She had been wrong about the nuns. Her mother’s solution had been worse. She would go to Aunt May’s in Carlisle and stay there until the baby could be given up for adoption. Margot remembered the aunt from 43 childhood visits, a spinster who smelt of camphor and attended spiritualist meetings. There were cats, she remembered, and shuddered.

Greene’s leniency had seemed like an insult. I don’t hate him, Patrick thought as he sat beside his brother’s wheelchair. Not hate, exactly. Mick grinned drunkenly at him, lifting his glass and clinking it against Patrick’s. ’ Men on either side of them shifted uncomfortably. Patrick finished his pint and stood up, manoeuvring the chair around the table, careless of feet that weren’t quick enough to get out of harm’s way. As he wheeled him towards the pub doors, Mick turned back to his 33 drinking partners.

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