She waited, and eventually she heard the thin and wavering sound of a small group of people singing ‘Morning Has Broken’, the hymn she had chosen to end the service. Shortly afterwards, the crematorium doors opened and the vicar began ushering people out.

‘Hev, are you all right?’ Nikki came straight over to her, while her mother and auntie hovered anxiously behind. The small handful of mourners were moving out into the garden, pausing to thank the vicar as they did, but Heather couldn’t help noticing that they were all taking little peeks at her.

‘Sorry.’ She lifted her eyes to Mrs Appiah and her sister so the apology took them in too. ‘I just couldn’t face it. I kept remembering Dad’s funeral, and the shock of everything …’

‘It’s understandable, honey.’ Mrs Appiah waved her explanations away. ‘Your mother’s at peace now, time for you to try and get some too. Now, look at these beautiful flowers everyone sent. Colleen would have been very touched, I’m sure.’

Heather nodded and obediently went back to the flowers, deciding that she would read each card and thank all the mourners personally. After all, they didn’t know about her fraught relationship with her mother, and they had taken the time to come – it was the least she could do when she’d already caused such a spectacle. As she was bending to read the card on a posy of pale yellow flowers – the florist’s handwriting was atrocious – Lillian appeared next to her, gloved hands folded around the handle of her handbag.

‘A lovely service, just what Colleen would have wanted.’ Heather turned at the sound of her voice – was that a note of sarcasm? But Lillian looked as composed as ever. ‘Are you having a wake, dear?’

‘At the King’s Arms. I’ve rented the back room. I should have done it at the house I suppose, but …’ She stopped. In truth there was no good reason. She just couldn’t bear the idea of other people there, seeing where the dust had built up and peering into the fridge.

‘No need to explain, I quite understand. It takes some of the pressure off, I imagine.’

‘And we’ve made some food.’ This was Nikki’s aunt, who had appeared at Heather’s elbow. ‘Sandwiches, cold cuts, sausage rolls. Plenty enough for everyone and more besides. I’ll put some in a pot for you to take back, Heather.’

Save me from the old women and their Tupperware, thought Heather, before noticing that Nikki’s aunt was peering with curiosity at Lillian.

‘Oh, sorry. Shanice, this is Lillian. I guess you must know each other? Lillian is also, uh, was also a neighbour of Mum’s.’

‘I don’t think we’ve met,’ said Auntie Shanice, holding out one plump hand. ‘Whereabouts are you on the road, Lillian?’