I feel lousy and I've remembered my toolkit.

'Can I use the phone in your office?'

'You can.'

When I call the pub, there's no answer. I've got to get my toolkit back and I've got to do it tonight.

I leave the office and Hayes is standing right outside.

'You look like you've seen a ghost,' he says. 'Anything wrong?'

'I left something at the pub.'

'Yeah?'

'My toolkit.'

'There's really no need to lug that thing around,' he says. 'We've got everything you need here.'

I can't speak.

'Was there anything else?' he says.

'No.'

I leave.

On the walk home, I've got a churning stomach about the kit, an awful nervousness. I go over Hayes' words and this business with his nephew and the scenes with my mother and I get to wondering what Sarah's doing and my brain floods with all the sour things it's been storing up.

I've got to think my way out of this panic before it takes hold.

After I've called the pub again, I'll run a hot bath and relax a bit in my room, or maybe have that swim in the sea.

There are no keys on the hooks other than Bridget's. Unless somebody's forgotten to put their key on, it's just me and her.

I take a hat from the coat-rack and try it on. It's a brown trilby, with a band round the rim made of black felt, and I look at myself in the hallway mirror and I see that it might be true that a good hat can make a short man look taller.

I could wear this one for the drive with Georgia. I'll ask Bridget if I can borrow it.

'Well, don't you look a pretty picture?'

It's Welkin.

He's sitting on the landing and he's with the blonde girl.

I put the hat back on the hook. At least he's not got Georgia.

'Glad you approve,' I say.

'You look really well in it,' says the girl.

She's not wearing her gla.s.ses today.

'Why don't you leave your dirty overalls at work?' he says. 'Why should he?' says the girl. 'He looks good. He looks like a painter who paints with engine oil.'

Welkin's got nothing to say.

I smile at the girl and she smiles at me and I put my shoulders back a bit and head up the stairs.

When I reach the landing, Welkin takes hold of my trouser leg.

'Were you were thinking of stealing that hat?' he says.

'No.'

'I wouldn't have picked you for a thief, but then again, you're the inscrutable type.'

He's still got hold of my trouser leg.

'What's that supposed to mean?' I say.

'It means you're impossibly opaque.'

I've a good mind to knee him in the face.

'f.u.c.k off.'

'Aren't you in a fine mood,' he says.

The girl stands, says, 'I've got to get going.'

'See you tomorrow,' says Welkin. 'I'll pick you up from school.'

They laugh.

'Bye bye,' she says.

We watch her go down to the front door, then Welkin stands and follows me up to my door.

'Flindall's leaving for London,' he says. 'He's got a new job.'

The last thing I want is to chat with him, but I've got no choice.

'When?'

'He had an interview with a big firm. He was offered the job on the spot. A big commission in London. He's the head architect on a new office building, a bank's headquarters, as far as I know.'

'Is he coming back to get his things?'

'He's coming back this evening, to say goodbye and all that, but he leaves again in the morning.'

'Right.'

I search for my key in the pocket of my overalls.

'Do you want something?' I say.

He stands close and when he stands close like this I've got to look up at him.

'Hey,' he says, 'steady on. I'm only having a bit of fun. Didn't your grandmother tell you that being teased is a sure sign that somebody likes you.'

'No, she didn't,' I say.

I find the key.

'You're in a punchy mood,' he says. 'Anything wrong?'

'No.'

'How about a drink before dinner then?' he says. 'I've got a full bottle of whisky and we've got to give Flindall a nice farewell.'

Welkin's either making an offer of friendship or he's winding me up. I wish I didn't care either way. The thing is, I do.

'I'm a bit busy,' I say.

He sighs. 'That's too bad.'

I should've gone straight to the pub after work to fetch the toolkit. I could've had a few pints by now or I could've gone back to the cafe and asked Georgia to have some tea down the pub with me.

The key's jammed in the lock.

'Need a hand there?'

'Go on, then.'

He has it opened straight away.

'There!' he says. 'La, ta porte est ouverte.'

He walks into my room as though it's his room and I've no choice but to follow him in.

I stand with my back to the door, put my hands in my pockets, take them out again.

'Well, I'd better get on with it,' I say.

He doesn't bother to ask what I've got to do.

'Surely you've got time for a drink,' he says.

'No thanks. Maybe tomorrow night.'

'Listen, Patrick. I think you've got me the wrong way. Can we call it a truce?'

'What for?'

'I don't want you thinking ill of me.'

He holds out his hand and I shake it and I know he notices I've got a lot of sweat on me. He lets go too quickly.

'How about after dinner?' he says. 'Just a few drinks. And when Flindall gets back, we can toast to his success.'

I suppose I'd like to say goodbye to Flindall.

'All right.'

He smiles. 'Come to my room at eight o'clock.'

I go back downstairs and call the pub. There's no answer. I wait in the sitting room and watch some football. Half an hour later, I call again.

A woman answers.

'I've just come on,' she says, 'and I haven't seen a toolkit.'

'I'm sure I left it there last night,' I say.

There's hot panic come up from the pit of my stomach.

'I'll have to check out the back,' she says.

'I'll wait.'

'I can't do it now. I'm busy at the bar. I'll have to wait till somebody else comes on.'

'Could you check now? It's a good kit and-'

'I'm sure it is,' she says, 'but I can't leave the bar now.'

'I'll give you my phone number then.'

'No need,' she says, 'call us back in about an hour.'

I go up to my room and mean only to take a small rest, but fall asleep.

I've slept through dinner. Bridget's going to be cross with me because it's the second time I've not told her, and now I'm starving hungry.

I go down in hope of getting some leftovers, but the food's been cleared.

I go to the phone.