The funeral was small and quiet, with fewer than ten of us there. The December sun was out, bleaching the sky around it from deep blue to light. A slight breeze had started up, and the ankles of my trousers flapped occasionally, sending cool gusts up my legs. I stared at the other graves, at the crumbling headstones closest to us. Out of the corner of my eye I caught the minister fidgeting, and a shadow passing over the ground. I looked up to see an eagle overhead, wings barely moving.

‘Theo.’ My mother was standing at the head of the grave; I’d almost forgotten where we were. ‘Would you like to throw first?’

I stepped forwards. A shovel was sticking out of a pile of freshly turned earth, waiting for me. I grasped it, looking around at the few faces. My mother looked back opaquely. Maud smiled encouragingly. I scooped up a small amount of earth and tipped it into the hole. It hit the coffin below with an uneven thud.

‘Now you, Maud,’ my mother murmured and I handed over the shovel.

Afterwards, the other mourners shook our hands silently and left. We three turned away and began walking towards the cars parked outside the church.

I recognised Sylvie’s car before I saw her. She was leaning against the bonnet wearing a black silk blouse and black trousers, carrying a bunch of lilies in her arms. Her hair was longer, but she still wore it piled on top of her head, showing off her long neck.

She came forwards to meet us. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ she said.

‘Thank you,’ my mother said. She was fingering the locket around her neck, so Maud stepped forwards to take the flowers from Sylvie.

‘They’re beautiful,’ she said.

‘Can I drive anyone?’ Sylvie asked.

‘I haven’t arranged for any food or drink,’ my mother said. ‘We should have given them something to eat, to thank them for coming.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Maud said, looking across at me.

‘You get in the car,’ I said to her and my mother. ‘I’ll join you in a minute.’

Sylvie waited until they were out of sight before brushing my shoulder. ‘If there’s anything I can do—’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I thought you might want to see a friendly face.’

‘That’s really it?’

‘I don’t know.’ She squeezed my hand and I flinched involuntarily, before collecting myself. ‘I suppose I need a friend too. I feel trapped. But I did come for you.’

‘Why trapped?’

‘Let’s not talk about it.’

‘No, let’s. Distract me.’