Logan headed past me and through the kitchen, giggling as he made a big show of sniffing at his hands. Happy that he was doing as asked, I kicked off my stilettos and ran up the stairs. I paused for a moment outside Mum’s bedroom listening to the racket, punctuated with the occasional expletive, then pushed open the door and gasped.

‘Oh my God! What’s going on? Mum! Why aren’t you ready?’

Wrapped in a fluffy cream towel, Mum turned to face me and blew a wisp of dark hair out of her face.

‘I only bought them on Saturday,’ she said, as if that explained why half the contents of her drawers were strewn all over the floor.

‘Bought what on Saturday?’

‘Black knickers. An M&S three-pack. But I can’t find them, Jemma.’

‘Where did you last have them?’

She planted her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes at me. ‘Why do people always say that? If I knew the answer, then this wouldn’t have happened, would it?’ She waved her arm across the carnage.

‘The hearse is here,’ I said, equally unhelpfully.

Mum frowned. ‘I thought they weren’t due till 10.15.’

‘It is 10.15. Well, near enough.’

She twisted round to look at her bedside clock. ‘Crap! Why didn’t you call me sooner?’

‘Because you told me you were nearly ready forty minutes ago and because I was busy with Logan.’

‘Logan? Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, Jemma. Is he ready?’

‘Yes. He’s downstairs waiting. We need to go in about seven minutes. Can you manage without the knickers?’

Her eyes widened. ‘Jemma-bear! Are you suggesting that I go commando to your father’s funeral? I’m not sure that’s appropriate.’

I laughed loudly – also not appropriate for a funeral. ‘I didn’t mean go without any knickers. I just meant without the new black ones.’

‘Oh! That makes more sense. I suppose I’d better. I can’t believe I lost track of time like that. Give me five minutes. Hair and make-up are done. It’s just clothes I need.’ She bent down and plucked a pair of scarlet lacy knickers from the pile on the floor. ‘Sod it. I’ll say goodbye in style.’ She paused as she stared at the knickers in her hands. ‘Do you know what? The last time I wore these was the night Logan was conceived. That was the end of our marriage and today’s the end of everything for him. How apt.’

I didn’t know what to say to that so I closed the door behind me and headed downstairs to check that Logan had washed his hands, hopefully without having to sniff them.