It hurts mine, and I rub my chest. He tracks the gesture with sharp eyes very much like his brother’s, but he doesn’t say anything. He just says a subdued goodbye and leaves me in the silence of my empty flat with the knowledge that getting the last word is obviously a Gentry family trait.

I sit down on the sofa and lapse into thought. That must have segued into sleep because I jerk awake later to find Endof nudging my hand. A quick glance at the clock tells me I’ve been asleep for a few hours. I rub my gritty eyes and look down at him and sigh. “You are bored, my friend, yes? Shall we go out?” He whines excitedly at the magic word, and I hold up one finger. “I will shower first.” I retrieve the envelope from the arm of the sofa and set it down on my dining room table as gently as if it was a priceless artefact and head off to get clean.

When I come out dressed in navy shorts and a white T-shirt, the sky is brightening to pearly dawn, but I know I won’t sleep. I grab Endof’s lead and fix it on him before grabbing my wallet and going to the door. I stop and then curse under my breath and come back for the mysterious envelope. I put it carefully in my pocket.

“Just in case there’s a fire,” I tell Endof, who appears to be rolling his eyes. I look at the tape with Laurie’s name on the label and put that in my pocket for the same reason.

London is very quiet, with just a few milk wagons and early morning commuters about. I choose St James Park for some ridiculously sentimental reason, and as the gates have only just opened, it’s quiet. Seeing no one around, I let Endof off his lead. We stroll along the paths, watching the ornate lamps blink out as daylight approaches. Finally, I find a seat on a bench near the lake and look out over its stillness. The mist over the water seems to shimmer in the early morning light. It’s already hot, and the day promises more of the same.

Endof bustles about, sniffing at bushes before choosing the most worthy ones to anoint with a lift of his leg. I tap my fingers on my thighs and then give up and pull out the envelope. I smooth my fingers over Laurie’s writing, wishing I could touch his skin. That we were lying in bed, and I could trace the graceful arch of his spine as he lies amongst my sheets.

I tear the envelope open carefully and pull out the thin sheet of drafting paper inside.

Mags