‘You did what I couldn’t do,’ he says, and there is a quaver in his voice. ‘You brought him out. You brought the village together. You know, I asked him plenty of times to come to the house and have dinner, but he wouldn’t. He said the neighbours wouldn’t like it. That it would make life hard for us if he came. But you made him come. You did this, Clara.’ He turns his back on me and tells me to continue with what I was doing, and I think it’s because he doesn’t want me to see him tearing up.