She came round the room, glancing at the canvases stacked on the floor, the same ones she’d seen when she broke in.

‘Is this place secure?’

He was at his canvas now but still watching her. ‘If you’d asked a week ago I would’ve said yes but I got broken into the other day.’

‘Did they take anything?’

He laughed and shook his head. ‘I guess they weren’t art fans.’

She smiled.

‘I presume they were after stuff they could sell,’ Liam said. ‘Laptops, anything electrical. A bunch of weird paintings by a nobody wouldn’t get many buyers down at the pub.’

Jenny pointed at a picture on the floor. ‘I think these are great, they’re not weird at all.’

The painting had the vague outline of a deer, but it seemed rooted in the forest, like it was a malformed tree, its antlers were branches with leaves and blooms sprouting from them. Other trees in the background had animal shapes, with a liquid sun pouring through the skeletal outcrops. It was beautiful and eerie.

‘Thanks.’

‘I mean it,’ Jenny said, coming round to the work in progress. It was kind of a seascape, figures below and above the water, something like a whale carcass with ribs poking out, and a rotting ship, 227beams exposed at the waterline. Alien plants wrapped around them, purple and maroon seaweeds, luminous vines trailing from both structures, the balance and composition off centre and off kilter.

‘Do you ever show these or sell them?’

He laughed in surprise. ‘No, nothing like that.’

‘You should.’

He shook his head.

‘I’m not bullshitting,’ Jenny said.

He leaned into a bow. ‘You’re very kind, but I don’t think I’m ready.’

She smiled at his self-deprecation and held out a hand. ‘I’m Jenny by the way.’

He shook her hand, strong and solid. ‘Liam.’

She went back to looking around the room, brushed hair away from her face.

‘I know where I’ve seen you before,’ he said.

She lowered her hand and turned.

‘My sister-in-law’s funeral, you were working for the undertaker.’

Jenny had hoped different hair and clothes would throw him off, but he was an artist, it was his job to notice things. Or maybe he’d just noticed her. ‘Yes, I work there, was that Gina O’Donnell’s service?’

He nodded, thoughtful. ‘What’s it like in that business?’

‘I’ve only just started, really.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s the family business,’ she said. ‘Skelf Funeral Directors. I’m Jenny Skelf. But I only began helping out when my father died.’

Liam took a step closer. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

She could feel the warmth of him standing close, and wondered if he was going to touch her, a sympathetic hand on the arm.

‘It’s OK,’ she said.

‘No, it’s not, your dad died, it’s anything but OK.’228