‘Then good to meet you, Stuart.’ Vera smiled. His handshake was dry and firm. ‘You know what I’d really love? It’s been a bugger of a day. A real drink. Don’t suppose you’ve got a licence?’

‘A residents’ licence? Of course.’

Vera beamed at her. ‘Then I’ll have a large Scotch. And why don’t you two come and join me. I expect you could use a drink – the day that you’ve had.’ She pulled off her wellingtons and padded into the lounge in her stockinged feet, leaving Kate and Stuart no choice but to follow. She sat in one of the leather chairs, waited for Kate to pour the drinks and then held her glass in both hands and looked at them. ‘How long have you been together then?’

They looked at each other. ‘About a year.’ Stuart’s voice was northern, but not local. Yorkshire?

‘Stuart teaches at the kids’ school.’ Kate looked at him as if he was some sort of miracle, as if she could hardly believe that he was real.

‘How does that work? Must be a nightmare to have your teacher turning up and telling tales to your mam.’ Vera set the glass on the arm of the chair.

‘None of us finds it easy. And, really, I’d never tell tales.’ He had a way of speaking slowly that was very precise, as if he was considering every word. He took Kate’s hand.

My God, Vera thought, they are like a pair of teenagers.

‘You knew Margaret Krukowski?’

‘Of course,’ Stuart said. ‘She was like one of the family.’ He gave a shy smile. ‘She was going to give Kate away at the wedding.’

‘You’ve planned your wedding then?’ Vera was tempted to ask why they’d bother, but held her tongue.

‘Well, we’ve fixed a date.’

‘When did you last see Margaret?’

‘At the weekend.’ He looked at Kate for confirmation and she nodded. ‘The kids were out and we invited her down for supper.’

‘You don’t live here then?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I stay over sometimes, but as you said, Chloe and Ryan find it awkward. We think they’ll find it easier to accept when we’re married.’

There was a silence. Stuart slid his arm around Kate’s shoulder. Vera felt uncomfortable, as if she were intruding, and thought the kids must feel like this all the time.

‘What do you teach, Stuart?’ Small talk had never come easily to her. It was one of the few things that she and Hector had had in common. She thought the man sitting opposite might struggle with it too.

‘Music,’ he said. Then, as she made no comment, he added, ‘I run the county youth orchestra too. And the jazz band.’