Chapter 12William was sitting in the easy-chair next to the fire, smoking. He was wearing a grey woollen pullover over a clean white shirt, and on the little support table next to his chair there was a tin of Golden Virginia tobacco, along with a packet of the papers that he used to roll his cigarettes, a box of Swan Vesta matches, and an ashtray that was crammed full with a veritable viper's nest of old butt-ends. The smoke from William's cigarettes hung in the air, clearly visible in the light of the paraffin lamp, and Phoebe breathed in its bittersweet aroma.
Mrs Markham sat down on the sofa, then she turned to look at her son. 'Will,' she said, 'Phoebe and I have been talking about you and Amy.'
William seemed startled by the mention of his former fiancée's name. 'What is there to ta
