Jack bites his lip and tries to enjoy the anecdote for what it is -- be a big boy. Be a brave boy. He can't keep the Deep Hurting from passing across his face, but he can keep from blubbering.

He wipes the old tears and other crying gunk from his face with the towel, which he has at least folded in half since blowing his nose on it.

"When we get out," he says, "we should have a corn pie, and a turkey, and toffee apples, and ice cream, and sausages. A hundred sausages."

This is actually helping! Sinclair, you're the best.