By the time Zech approached the room, Simon was lying on the floor, dozing (he did not want Mr. Hurley catching him sleeping in his bed – he would not sleep in that bed anyway). He had already accepted that there was going to be trouble when he returned home, and so he had stopped worrying and just tried to get the sleep he could. But he sat up when he heard footfalls and when the door opened he jumped up.

It was not Hurley. Oh God. Simon stared at Zech in horror. Then he suddenly turned round and pretended he was making the bed. “Simon, ser.” He stopped to look at Zech as if he only stopped tidying up now. “Do pardon me, if I started ye, ser. Mr. Hurley was generous when ‘e ‘eard me family was strugglin. Offered me some money for cleanin' t' place.” He looked around. There no duster, nor a cloth and bucket for that matter.