Alarm bells went off in George’s head. Something didn’t seem right and Roger hadn’t even asked how Sarah was. ‘You suppose so! You’ve made no attempt to see her since Tommy died, and now you suppose you’ll go and see her?’

‘Yeah, well, you and your mum have been looking out for her, but if she’s back home now, I’ll go to see her.’

‘Are you sure about that?’ George asked.

‘Leave off, will ya, George? I’ll call in on my way home, not that it’s got fuck all to do with you.’

George had placed the orange back in the crate, but now his fists clenched. He wanted to launch at Roger and smash his smug face in, but he knew that any more friction between them would only add to Sarah’s grief. Instead he began to walk away, but said, ‘Be good to her. Sarah’s fragile, and it’s Tommy’s funeral on Monday.’

He didn’t wait for Roger to respond, and went back to his stall to pack up. He loved Sarah, and always would. He wished he was going to see her tonight instead of Roger.

Sarah arrived home exhausted from ambling around the park for most of the day, and lay down on Tommy’s bed to rest her aching legs. She felt different, pleased to be home, and, though still heartbroken, she’d taken some pleasure in spending the day reminiscing. The scent of Tommy filled her nostrils and tears flowed again until, exhausted, she fell asleep.

A knock on her door woke her, and when it opened, Roger walked in. ‘Mo let me in the front door,’ he said.

Sarah was surprised to see him and scrambled from the bed, noticing that he had a bunch of flowers in his hands.

‘How are you?’ he asked, handing them to her.

‘Just about coping.’

‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

There was no warmth in his voice and Sarah thought it a strange thing for him to say. Roger was talking to her as if he was a casual acquaintance, not her boyfriend. ‘Thank you for the flowers,’ she said. ‘They’re lovely. I’ll put them in some water.’

Roger followed her to the sink, and when she turned around to look at him, she wanted him to take her in his arms and hold her until all her pain went away. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she whispered.

‘Come here,’ Roger said, and held out his arms.

Sarah immediately fell into them, her body once again wracked with grief.

‘It’s all right. You have a good cry, my girl,’ Roger said, and stroked the top of her head with one hand while holding her close with the other.

Sarah fought to stifle her tears. Roger would look after her now, and though he couldn’t take away her suffering, she felt some comfort.