I glanced at the Joan of Arc statue in the forecourt, her flag held aloft. She’d burned at the stake when she was three years younger than Zac, and considerably younger than his mother. I hugged my knees with one arm, summoned my most caring voice. ‘But she was still your –’

‘No … Well, yes, she was, technically or whatever. But she’s been dead to me in any practical sense for nearly ten years. I know this might sound callous, but I’m actually OK.’

‘Right, yeah, but still …’

‘Have you told Sarah and Biddy?’

‘No, Mel called just a couple of minutes ago.’

Silence. Was he crying? No.

‘Right, so, you can pass on the news. But if you could tell them I’d rather not talk to anyone today. To be completely honest, the worst bit so far has been trying to pretend I’m upset. I mean, I’m sorry about the general loss of life … But, yeah … Tell them I’ll call tomorrow.’

Schoolchildren in uniform coming up the forecourt steps, looking at me, through me. ‘Right. Yeah. And you don’t want to chat about it just now, with me?’

‘Yeah, look, I appreciate it, Chris. I just … No, not really.’

‘Right.’

The pre-grief bubble, I’d been inside it with my mother. When it popped, he’d be –

‘On a lighter note, my work’s sending me to Switzerland for some training.’

‘Oh, really? That’s ace.’

‘We had a visit yesterday from the global sales rep for Patek Philippe. It’ll only be for a week or so but, yeah, anyway …’

‘That’s good news, man. Especially at a time –’

‘As I said, Chris, I’m fine. It’s really nice that you called but, believe me, I’m not just putting on a brave face or whatever.’

* * *

Biddy sat at the dinner table with Sarah, me and the kids. Biddy was Mummy and Daddy’s friend, but especially Daddy’s. I’d tell them the full story, of course I would, when they were ready.

‘Oh, yeah, Sophie, eat the broccoli,’ Biddy said. ‘That’s the best part of the meal.’

‘That’s what Mummy says.’

‘Because it’s true,’ I said. ‘You see my muscles …’ I raised my arm, clenched – a disappointing bulge. ‘That comes from eating my greens. Without those, I wouldn’t be nearly as strong as I am.’

‘You said Biddy was stronger than you.’ Oliver had rice on his chin.

‘She probably eats more greens,’ Sarah said.

‘Is that why you have an extra finger?’ Sophie said, coughing. She liked Biddy’s bonus digit; I’d seen her admiring it whenever Biddy read to her in bed.

‘You know, I’ve never actually thought about that,’ Biddy said, looking at her hand. ‘It probably is.’