His next question is, of course, obvious but he answers his first. There's a soft chuckle and he steals the fork back, then accepts the toast with a smile of thanks.

'Oderint dum Metuant,' he says. 'That was his favourite saying, my father's. It's Latin, it means Let them hate me provided they fear me.'

He shrugs. 'He was surprisingly quiet, for all that. Didn't use gratuitous violence but when it was necessary he would. Not on me, I mean, I'm talking about at work. And it wasn't a case of me hero-worshipping him really, it was just that there's never been a time when I didn't know I was going to be in charge one day. So I thought to stick by him because that was my rightful place. He didn't object. He was a better father than I ever was.'

It's said matter-of-factly, he's not trying to feel sorry for himself or get that reaction from Random. 'When he told you to do something, you did it. If you didn't, you'd get a beating. And I wasn't stupid then either, so I listened to it. He treated my mother well enough, was a workaholic and always surrounded by lots of very tough men - and still taught me to ride a bike when I was three.'

He came very close to loving his dad, though respect was probably the most accurate term for it.

'We should go riding together, like we said. What's rumball?'