Sarah stepped in. Everything was just as she’d left it, but it felt empty. Tommy’s bed was made, and his school bag was hanging on the end. His short trousers and several shirts were neatly folded on a wooden chair next to his bed, with his tin of toy soldiers on top. The Muffin the Mule game Roger had bought him was poking out from under his bed, as were his sketchpad and paints.

George pushed the door to, and Sarah turned to see Tommy’s oversized army jacket hung on the back. It was too much and she gasped, holding her hand to her mouth as silent tears began to flow. She walked up to it and held the material to her face, trying to breathe in the scent of her brother.

‘I knew this would be too much for you,’ George said, and urged her towards one of the armchairs.

‘No … I had to come. I want to be here … I want to be near his things. I know it sounds daft, but it makes me feel closer to him. I wasn’t sure I could do this, but I’m glad I have.’

She sat down, crying quietly, grateful that for once George didn’t try to comfort her. Her thoughts were full of Tommy, the room evoking so many memories.

Mo came in carrying a pot of tea and jug of milk. ‘Oh, Sarah, I don’t know what to say.’

‘There isn’t anything you can say, Mo,’ she said, managing to dry her tears. ‘It’s so hard. I’m all right for a little while, but then, like waves, it hits me again. Lena says it’s normal and this is all part of grieving, but honestly, it hurts so much that at times it’s almost more than I can bear.’

‘I can’t imagine how hard it is for you, but if you need me, I’m just upstairs.’

‘Thanks, Mo.’

‘When is the funeral?’

‘On Monday.’

‘Maybe once that’s over, you’ll begin to feel better.’

Sarah had heard all the platitudes, and though she knew people were trying to be kind, they didn’t help. She doubted she’d ever get over losing Tommy, and there were many times that she wished she’d died with him. Nevertheless, she accepted Mo’s words of condolence and said, ‘Thanks, Mo. I wasn’t sure what it would be like coming back here, but actually I think it helps. George and his mum will probably be glad to get rid of me. They must be sick of hearing me crying all the time.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ George protested. ‘I’d prefer it if you come home again with me, and I know Mum would too.’

‘Don’t worry, George, I’ll keep an eye on her,’ Mo said.