A smoker
He’s lighting up on the pavement opposite the pub when he sees the family leave.
First, an older woman, thin and cruel-looking, trailed by her adult offspring and their hangers-on.
She doesn’t even glance behind her as she heads for the car.
A clean-cut, apologetic-looking young man holds the rear door for her, then turns and waves timidly to the rest of the group before getting into the driver’s seat.
A son-in-law, no doubt. That leaves three blond siblings and a Mediterranean-looking bloke.
The eldest daughter leaves first, pursing her lips and nodding her head with averted eyes, as if cracking a smile might be a sign of weakness.
A quick kiss on her sister’s cheek, then she’s getting into the passenger seat.
The youngest stands with his hands in his long sleeves.
He and his remaining sister look like they want to say something to one another, but it’s starting to rain, and the mother is calling impatiently from the car, so they almost smile, and she almost takes hold of his arm, but she doesn’t quite have the time to embrace him before he’s getting in the car, too.
Her family drives away, and one sister is left, her partner lingering awkwardly behind her.
The encounter seems to have raised her hackles, and the way in which the woman holds herself makes the smoker want to rub his own taut neck.
He takes a drag of his cigarette. The woman opposite has her fists clenched, and it isn’t hard to tell what she’s saying, even from this distance.
That’s it, she’s saying. I’m done, she’s saying.
Never again. She looks like she might scream.
But as she turns, her boyfriend is already stepping towards her, already enclosing her in his arms. She resists at first. Then she gives way, relaxing into him, her legs buckling, her cheek pressed firmly into his chest. A cloud of smoke dissipates.
He holds her for a long time, and her breathing slows, and the palpable way in which she loosens is like a break in the clouds above.