The harbour hall holds the drawing every October and the whole town comes, and nobody has ever been able to explain to an outsider why they come.

It is a tombola drum and a hundred and forty folded slips and one slip with a name on it that has already been written by somebody.

MilaMy mother brought me here every year from four years old and she never once told me what it was for. She stood at the back and she shook.

The slip comes out at twenty past eight and the name on it is Mila Vance, and the hall makes a noise that is not applause.