I wanted to thank her, but it seemed so inadequate, so I nodded, and turned on my heel.

Poppy knocked on my window as I was sitting in my car. I wound it down. ‘Do you need me here?’

‘Maybe you could come to the morgue tomorrow?’ He looked away. ‘I’m sorry again.’

I started the engine and reversed up the drive. I must have driven to Sylvie’s without thinking, because the next thing I knew I was lying with my head in her lap, sobbing uncontrollably.

Chapter Thirty-One

We buried Maud the week before Christmas, in the orchard underneath a plum tree. I watched the men fill the grave, patting the earth with their shovels. In January the fruit would fall above her, soft and waxy and the colour of bruises; I thought she’d like that. Then I remembered she wouldn’t like anything ever again, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe. Images of her flashed past me, worsening the pain in my lungs: Maud as a toddler in Edinburgh, laughing when I pulled faces at her through the bars of her cot; Maud crying when I was sent to boarding school; Maud standing next to me in our train compartment, looking out at the African night and refusing to be scared of the leopards; Maud teaching Scotty to shake paws, roll over. Maud in the garden, talking to the flowers to make them open up; Maud with the children in the compound, kissing their sticky faces. Maud sitting on the veranda and promising me she wasn’t doing anything stupid, the stubborn tilt of her chin when she told me we had to fight for change.

The Africans came and stood behind us, at least a hundred of them. They didn’t speak, not even to each other. Afterwards, they melted away, until only one woman was left. She came forwards timidly, holding something in her arms.

‘Bwana,’ she said. ‘I bring him now?’

I’d been avoiding facing the issue of Solomon’s future during the last few days. He was sleeping now, his long eyelashes quivering with every breath.

‘What is she talking about?’ my mother asked.

Josephine held him out. I met my mother’s gaze.

‘Your grandson,’ I said. ‘Maud’s baby.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘You’re lying.’

I shook my head. Josephine handed him to me and I drew back the blanket to show her. ‘Look at his expression.’ It was true. The frown between his eyes reminded me so much of Maud that my heart caught against my ribs.

My mother took a step back. ‘Take him away.’

‘Where to?’

‘Anywhere.’ She half-turned away while I handed Solomon back to Josephine, and I felt a jolt of guilt that I hadn’t prepared her for him. Of course the news was hard to take today. She’d thought she was saying goodbye to Maud for good, and Solly would be a constant reminder of her.