I can tell by the tone of Mum’s voice and the general atmosphere that something about this is going to be pretty awkward.

‘Go on,’ I say.

Mum sits down at the kitchen table, and Dad leans back against the wall, his arms crossed, backside propped on top of the radiator.

‘Well, we’ve been at your Nan’s place over the past day or two. Sorting out all her things, you know. Trying to work out what’s got to go where. And we were wondering… Do you remember that amethyst necklace she used to have?’

‘Yeah, of course,’ I say. ‘She used to wear it all the time.’

‘That’s the one,’ Mum says, nodding. ‘You used to love it, ever since you were a little girl. You were the only one she ever used to take it off for.’

I smile, remembering it fondly. ‘I was only talking to Tom about it just before Christmas, when we realised she didn’t have long left. Strange, the things that come back to you.’

Mum looks at Dad, who returns an awkward glance.

‘Yes, well, there’s a bit of a problem on that front,’ Mum says. ‘We’ve searched everywhere, but we can’t seem to find it.’

I narrow my eyes. ‘That’s weird. She wasn’t wearing it when she… you know…?’

‘No. She only had her wedding ring on. They itemise everything. Sordid, I know, but that’s how it is. She used to take it off every night when she went to bed, but then she’d always lay it out neatly on her bedside table. We presumed that’s where it would be, but it’s not.’

‘Oh. That’s weird. Have you asked the carers?’

Mum nods. ‘Yes, but they don’t know anything about it. They haven’t been back since she passed, of course. No-one has, other than your Dad and I. As far as we know.’

‘As far as you know?’ I ask. There’s an odd inflection in her voice which tells me there’s some sort of hidden meaning there, but I can’t quite catch it.

‘Well, we wondered if perhaps you’d been back there at all. To reminisce, maybe, or help… I don’t know, tidy up or something.’

‘No, of course I haven’t. Why would I do that?’

‘We don’t know,’ Mum replies. ‘But we can’t seem to think of any other explanation for it.’

Now I’m catching on. ‘Hang on a second. You think I took the necklace?’

‘No, no, of course we don’t,’ Mum says. ‘I mean, you might have looked at it, or moved it or borrowed it.’

‘Or Tom did,’ Dad says, his first words since arriving.

I look at him and cock my head. ‘Tom?’

‘Well we know you wouldn’t take it,’ Mum says, her voice almost a conspiratorial whisper.

‘And neither would Tom,’ I reply, refusing to dip my own volume.

Mum looks round, as if he’s going to be able to hear her, even though they know damn well he’s at work.

‘Perhaps it’s an honest mistake, Grace. Maybe the last time you were visiting he saw it and… I don’t know, perhaps he just—’