She turned back to Liam and made a face. ‘So today is the first day of the rest of your life.’

Liam rolled his eyes. ‘Today is always the first day of the rest of your life. Until you die.’

‘Cheery.’

Liam raised his glass. ‘Cheers.’

They drank, and Liam put his glass down.

Jenny leaned in and kissed him, squeezed his hand on the table, tried to feel sexy, wanted. She pulled away and drank.

He smiled. ‘What was that for?’

‘Just a Happy Divorce kiss.’

He sipped his pint, keeping his eyes on her. ‘I should get divorced more often.’

‘I wouldn’t recommend it.’

They were comfortable with this level of flirting and banter. They’d been seeing each other for the last couple of months, ended up in bed a handful of times, but hadn’t discussed what this was yet. Jenny was scared that if they did it would vanish in a puff of smoke. They were both licking their wounds, for God’s sake. But Jenny wanted to be seen, still wanted to be a sexual being, wanted to turn him on. And he certainly turned her on.

She thought about what he’d said before, that today was always the first day of the rest of your life. She liked that. At least until you die. But she lived around death every day, bodies in the embalming room, the viewing rooms, the chapel. Deceased and bereaved everywhere you looked in a funeral home.

Jenny watched Liam drink, delicate movements, considered, unassuming. She suddenly wanted to take him home to bed.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said.

‘And do what?’

Jenny’s phone rang in her bag as she took a final swig of her gin. She fished it out. ‘Hey Mum, how was the funeral this morning?’

3

HANNAH

The counsellor’s office was annoyingly jaunty, bright yellow seats, a lurid green desk. Outside the window Hannah saw the Meadows, students soaking up sunshine on the grass, mums with little kids in the play park, tennis players thwacking balls across the courts. To the right was Bruntsfield Links and she could just make out the Skelf house beyond that. The irony, while undergoing counselling she could see the place she chased her dad covered in blood.

Out the other window of Rita’s corner office was George Square and the dome of McEwan Hall, where Hannah would graduate in a year’s time, maybe. Recent grades were not good. She could’ve taken a year out, given everything that happened, but she would’ve gone mad with nothing to keep her occupied.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Rita said.