As the waitress walked away, Olivia cast Ted a rueful glance. ‘I can’t believe I forgot something so important.’

Ted gave her a wan smile. ‘Not to worry, no harm done.’

‘Just as well,’ said Olivia, sinking her spoon into the porridge, ‘because the name Tresta doesn’t ring a bell. I’d have sworn it was far more sombre-sounding than that.’

Ted reached across the table and placed his hand over Olivia’s. ‘Stop beating yourself up. You heard what the waitress said – there’s only one crem in Glasgow. Now get that porridge down you before it goes cold.’

The waitress had been correct with her information, and half an hour or so after leaving the hotel behind, they stood outside the door to the crematorium office. Ted slipped his hand into hers. ‘Come on, queen.’

He rapped his knuckles against the office door and waited to be invited inside. A woman in her late fifties opened the door and smiled warmly at them. ‘Can I help you?’

Ted nodded. ‘I hope so. We’re after some information concerning a cremation that took place here in 1923.’

The woman looked surprised. ‘Gosh, that was a long time ago.’

Ted nodded. ‘It’s a bit of a long story, and we’ve not got much time as we have to be on the midday train back to Liverpool, so I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a hurry – sorry.’

She shook her head. ‘Not to worry. We keep good records, so it shouldn’t be too much bother finding the information you need.’ She smiled fleetingly. ‘Name and date of death of the deceased?’

Ted swallowed hard. ‘Date of death is the same as the date of birth, and I’m afraid there wasn’t a name given.’

The woman looked at them sympathetically. ‘I see. Well, at least you’ve got the date to go by.’

Ted told her what it was and she disappeared into the back after telling them to take a seat.

‘I’m scared, Ted,’ Olivia whispered.

He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. ‘Of what?’

‘You were right in what you said before, that once we know where the ashes are, it’ll make everything real, because it will.’

‘I reckon that’s why your father didn’t want you to hold the baby, because he feared it would be too much for you to handle. Perhaps he did the right thing, or perhaps he was only putting off the inevitable. Can you deal with your emotions better now than you could when you were younger?’

‘Of course I can. I’m a lot older now, I understand things much better.’

‘Then maybe that’s the answer,’ Ted said logically. ‘I know I didn’t grasp the enormity of my mother’s passing when I was six years old, but now I’m an adult I realise how much I missed out on.’