DAY 27

(Day 24 continued) Errol sleeps like the dead for 16 hours straight. When he wakes, he is incredibly confused. Rhoda, as she turns out to be called, arrives with tea on a tray. A small dog growls, dubiously at him.

The two enjoy each other’s company, playing games, watching TV and Rhoda helps Errol tighten his bow and arrow. They both understand that when the authorities inevitably find her new unexpected love interest, they will have a battle to convince Errol’s sons he is well enough to stay here. But for now, there is a new crackle of independence, of defiance, of thinking for themselves. Life is short, so they drink it all in, quietly grateful for the pandemic’s role in this late-life twist.

Craig shifts in the sofa and the paper crown slips from his head. He smacks his lips, grumbles, farts and starts to snore loudly again. Mrs. Brown’s Boys plays on the TV and his Christmas lights dance their five-track loop, highlighting the side of his face not pressed into his shoulder. Next to him are several mince pie wrappers and in the kitchen, on the hob sits the dried dregs of mulled wine. Washing up is piled high on the draining board.

The money he came into when he lost his mother two years ago means he does not have to work. He cannot travel without being muzzled during the flight, questioned by foreign border authorities and bolted into his hotel, so he started Christmas in mid-September. He’s put on 1/3 of his previous body weight, but says he’ll sort it in January. What else is there?