George nodded, but decided to ask Mo to keep an eye on Sarah. If she couldn’t cope he wanted to know about it, and then he’d bring her back here.

Only a couple of hours later, Sarah was sitting beside George as he drove her home. They had been to the church to see the vicar, something she had been dreading, but he’d been so kind that she had managed to make the arrangements without too many tears.

‘The vicar was a good bloke,’ George said.

‘Yes, and I liked his suggestions for the hymns. Tommy used to love “All Things Bright and Beautiful”. He learned to sing it in school assemblies. He was right, you know, the vicar, what he said. Tommy was such a bright boy and full of life, so his service should reflect that and not be filled with sombre hymns. I’m not sure I can stand up and do a reading though. I was wondering if you would, or your mum.’

‘I could do it, but I reckon my mum would be honoured.’

They pulled up outside Sarah’s house and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, searching for the courage to step inside.

‘We can always come back another day?’ George offered softly.

‘No … I ’m ready,’ Sarah said, and climbed out of the van, but when she got to the front door, her hand was shaking. ‘George, would you open the door for me, please?’

As soon as they stepped inside, Sarah noticed the familiar musty smell, and cursed herself for not moving Tommy out of the house sooner. Maybe he’d still be alive if she had, though the doctors had told her it wouldn’t have made any difference. Tommy had contracted whooping cough, which had led to complications. They’d said whooping cough wasn’t caused by the damp or the smog. It was from an infection, but Sarah still believed the mould in their room hadn’t helped.

As George was about to open the door to her room, Mo appeared at the top of the stairs.

‘Sarah, you’re home,’ she called and came running down. She threw her arms around her friend. ‘I’m so sorry … you must be devastated.’

Sarah stiffened at Mo’s embrace, fighting to hold back her tears. She appreciated that her friends wanted to show their sympathy, but felt more in control if left alone. ‘Thanks, Mo,’ she croaked.

‘Would you like me to make a pot of tea and bring it down?’

Tea, the answer to everything, but in reality, the answer to nothing, Sarah thought. Still, it was kind of Mo to offer and she didn’t want to hurt her feelings. ‘Thanks, that would be great,’ she said as George slowly pushed the door open.