The thought of being in this house, pretending to be cheerful for Theo and Lotte, fills her with a kind of panic. What would they do? Buy flowers, field condolences, all whilst trying not to think of her daughter as she last saw her, her lips swollen, her skin grey, her fingertips wrinkled…

Matt covers her hand with his own.

‘And we can’t go to Somerset.’

‘No,’ he says. ‘Shall we talk about it later?’

‘Italy. Italy would be perfect. It’ll be sunny. It won’t be remotely like here. The children will love it – they’ll have a good time. Somewhere with a beach.’

‘There won’t be any flights or villas left,’ says Matt. ‘We’ve left it too late.’ He’s been eating mechanically. It’s a new habit, to make sure he has ingested enough ‘nutrients’ to satisfy his doctor. He methodically spears the last of his peas onto his fork and takes a gulp of wine to force down the food. She can’t be bothered to talk to her GP any more.

‘No one will be able to reach us. I won’t have to speak to anyone asking how we are.’

‘We could get something online,’ Nick says. ‘Loads of people are letting their houses privately now, on Airbnb, that kind of thing.’

Matt reluctantly sets down his fork, as if he’s accepted that he’ll have to discuss Ruby-May’s anniversary in front of Amy’s brother.

‘Do you mean the… the five of us,’ Matt says, gesturing towards Nick, ‘plus Chloe?’

Chloe, Matt’s daughter from his previous marriage, is almost sixteen. Amy nods doubtfully. She might not want to come. Matt hasn’t counted Bethany. Or their dad.

‘I’ll ask Sara.’ Matt still sounds unconvinced. ‘That’s if we can find flights, and somewhere to stay, at such short notice.’

‘It’s in a month, not next weekend,’ Amy says and Matt gives her a dull look. She never used to speak to him like that, and she wonders if Matt mentioning his ex-wife has set her off.

‘What if,’ Nick says, swallowing his pasta, ‘what I meant was, what if we all went? The whole family. We should do something, you know, on the day. Together.’

He can’t say the word, either. An anniversary has always been a joyful occasion: the anniversary of when she and Matt first got together, their wedding anniversary.

‘All of us?’ Matt asks again.

‘It’s not like we’ve seen each other much. It might help, you know?’ Her brother clears his throat. ‘I’m not sure how – well, how else are we going to get past this? We’ve only got each other, since Mum left, and Dad…’ He tails off.

‘Including Bethany?’ Matt’s lips are set in a thin line.

‘I’ll talk to Bee,’ Nick says.