"I see it, but--christ, I'm allowed to talk to other people now and again!" He sits up again. "Anyway, he's dead, it's not like he's going to pop into Stirling and tell all your secrets--all the ones he doesn't even know, because I'm not fucking telling him anything."

William scrubs his face, which, again, ow. Ow, ow. He probes his temple with careful fingertips. "But fine, right, you think I like doing stupid things, you're probably right. No one ever got far without trying an idiot thing or two. Well." A humorless laugh. "Except my dad. Never puts a foot wrong, him, is that how I should be?"