He had spent three days being extremely well behaved in other people’s homes, which is a skill no seven-year-old should have to acquire in seventy-two hours, and he had watched his mother go silent, and he did the thing he does, which is fill a gap.

He pointed at his sister and said: “That’s Nora.

She’s asleep.

I’m Leo.

Do you have a dog?”

Arthur looked down at him.

He said, “No.”

And Leo looked at his sneakers, and I watched a seven-year-old decide that he had said the wrong thing, and I have never in my life wanted so badly to be able to undo four seconds.