‘Was his wife.’
‘You’re just tired. His books are staying here. That’s what Father would have wanted.’
‘Perhaps if there was no fire in the library the students wouldn’t be so interested in using them.’
‘Mother, if you dare do that I shall employ someone to do the fires myself and deduct it from your . . .’ He stopped.
‘Wages?’ she added.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Well, I feel like a curator here. Keeping guard on some mausoleum or monument to our national heritage.’
‘You are, in a sense. You should be proud to keep his memory alive.’
‘I’d like a home, Charles.’
‘This is your home!’ he said, exasperated. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Putting the kettle on. You did say you wanted some tea. And your friend must be freezing to death in the library.’
‘Why isn’t there a fire in there?’
‘It’s half-term, remember?’
‘You could at least keep the room warm. It’ll take ages to get it warm again next week.’
‘I can’t afford it. Keeping that fire going all day is an extravagance. Perhaps if the university could donate something towards the cost.’
‘I give you enough, don’t I?’
‘Only just. Fuel is very expensive. It’s also getting hard to find. It means I can’t light a fire anywhere else in the house.’
‘But you don’t need to. You have that as a sitting room in the evening.’
‘And the daytime?’
‘I assumed you sat and supervised in there.’
‘Did you?’
Ralph could hear the tinkling of cups and saucers.
‘Mother, there’s no need to do that. I’m only making a passing visit.’
A passing check-up, Ralph thought.
‘Charles,’ began Mrs Egerton-Smythe, ‘this really is too big a house for one person. I’ve been thinking of taking in lodgers.’
There was an audible gasp. ‘Have you lost your senses?’
‘If I took lodgers,’ she continued, ‘I wouldn’t be dependent on you.’
‘You aren’t dependent on me. It’s Father’s money. I’m just delegated to give it to you when needed.’
‘I would have preferred it to be a solicitor.’
‘I am a solicitor.’
‘Outside the family.’
‘And let them take payment for it?’
‘Of course, if it had been left to me.’
‘You would have spent it in the first six months!’
‘You think I would. I’ve always done the household budgeting, remember?’
‘It’s hardly the same thing.’ He was beginning to sound bored. ‘Look, I must go. We’re expecting people. Sandra will wonder where I am. Now, if you’ll excuse me.’
‘I could take law students,’ she went on. ‘Surely your father would approve of that.’
‘Law students! Living here?’
Ralph heard the door open.
‘You make it sound as if they’d be sleeping on an altar.’
The cupboard was suddenly dark and Ralph heard the door close. He stepped out cautiously and sprinted across the room.
His mother flung back the scullery door and dragged him into the kitchen. ‘Where have you been?’ she demanded.
His aunt and Joan were sitting at the kitchen table. Joan gave him a cursory glance before returning to her magazine. His aunt sat back on her chair and folded her arms. ‘I went to the theatre. It’s Friday.’
‘Does his breath smell?’ asked Auntie Win.
‘Don’t be silly, Win. He’s too young.’
He pulled out his pay packet and presented it to his mother.
‘It’s been opened,’ noted his aunt.
‘I took out a shilling for my theatre ticket.’
‘He still hasn’t told us where he’s been.’
‘Yes I did. The theatre.’
‘For both shows?’ his mother asked.
‘I stayed on a bit to help Mrs Egerton-Smythe.’
‘Mm,’ said Auntie Win, suspiciously.
His mother placed one piece of bread, a potato and a nub of cheese on to the table. ‘I’m sorry, it’s not much, love.’
Ralph drew up a chair.
‘She tried to save you some stew, but your dad said if you couldn’t be bothered to turn up for supper, you didn’t deserve any, so he ate what was left,’ his aunt said.
His mother turned away and hurriedly brought him out a mug of tea from the pot on the range.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ he said quietly.
She smiled and pushed the cup across the table.
‘Aren’t you having one? You look like you could do with a sit down.’
‘Don’t mind if I do,’ she smiled, and she poured herself one.
She had hardly sat down when Joan glanced up. ‘I’m a wage earner too,’ she said scowling. ‘How come I don’t get one?’
Ralph’s mother gave him a ‘what’s the point’ shrug and was about to give her cup to Joan when Ralph caught hold of her arm.
‘No you don’t,’ he said. ‘Joan’s got legs. She can pour herself one.’
‘I didn’t notice you pouring yours out,’ she objected.
‘I’ve only just come in. I bet you’ve
