Aysha came by late afternoon after work to see how Mum was getting on. Poor bloody Mum, talk about everything kicking off. Aysha herself was in a state of bewilderment. Everything was so new with Benedict, breathless and wonderful, but she could hardly allow herself to be happy when poor Dad was lying dead. She’d loved her dad and they’d finally found an uneasy sort of peace between them after all those rough years. Josh had clearly had issues with her, but when she’d suffered through Joey’s shit and through the trauma of losing her child, Dad had really come through for her. He’d been so good to her when she’d lost the baby. It was beyond sad that he was gone, when they could have grown so much closer. Mum was numb with grief, and now there was all this other stuff, terrible stuff, about this other woman being involved with him. How could she believe any of that?

But it was true.

Awful though it was, it was a fact. The money didn’t matter, of course it didn’t, but it was a bitter blow all the same. Five hundred thousand pounds would keep that Milo bitch in clover for the rest of her life. That was family money. Money Mum should have to keep for her old age. Or to squander. To do whatever she liked with. Instead, it was going to be wasted on that horny cheating bitch and the girl with the legs and the fucking blonde hair that Connor hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off. Aysha felt rage grow as she thought about it. The front of those mares, turning up at the solicitor’s office like that.

‘Mum? Where are you?’ she called out, letting herself in through the front door.

She went straight to the kitchen, but Shauna wasn’t there. Then she went into the sitting room. Shauna was standing in front of the big picture window, her back toward Aysha. She was looking down toward the woodland beyond the garden.

‘Mum? You all right?’ said Aysha, coming up alongside her. Her mother was still dressed in funereal black, still deep in mourning for Josh.

‘Oh! Hi, doll, didn’t hear you come in, I was miles away.’

Aysha joined Shauna at the window. ‘Pair of magpies.’ She pointed out the two black-and-white birds, chittering and chasing each other around on the lawn.

‘Death birds,’ said Shauna.

Aysha was starting to wonder whether the doctor ought to give Shauna something, perk her up a bit. She seemed very down, very remote. Again Aysha felt that uncomfortable stab of guilt at her own newfound happiness. What did her mother have now? She wasn’t that great-looking any more. Her face was harsh and lined, her hair dried out from years of chemical dyes. Now there were grey roots showing, and Shauna didn’t even seem to care.