Heavy blue velvet curtains shut out most of the light and Ella had only a shadowy impression of dark, solid furniture and the gleam of fleshy green leaves on a plant standing in a blue and white pot on the plush-clothed table. Not wanting to disturb the solemn tick of the grandfather clock in one corner, the girl found herself tiptoeing across the room and into the small hall beyond.

Immediately before them was another door, but Kate paused, her hand on the knob, and looked down again at Ella. ‘You wait here love, just a minute ’til I see how he looks.’

Her mother opened the door and disappeared into the room leaving Ella standing in the cold, dingy hall. She stood first on one foot then on the other. The minutes passed and Ella became impatient. She pressed her ear to the door but she couldn’t hear anything. Holding her breath, Ella slowly pushed the door open.

In the centre of the room was a black iron bedstead with a black and white striped mattress. There were no bedclothes on the bed and on top of the bare mattress lay a coffin with brass handles. The lid stood on its end against the wall and her mother was leaning over the coffin almost as if she were talking to someone.

Ella bit her lip, her whispered ‘Mum!’ echoing in the silent room. When Kate half-turned round, Ella saw, with a shock, that there were tears in her eyes. Although Kate brushed them away quickly with the back of her hand, the child-like gesture disconcerted the young girl. Ella tiptoed into the room. ‘What’s the matter, Mum?’ she whispered.

Her mother put out her arm to draw her closer. ‘Don’t be frightened, love. He looks real peaceful.’

‘Let me see.’

‘I don’t think . . .’ Kate began.

‘Please, Mum.’

As her mother lifted her up, Ella looked down at the man lying in the coffin. ‘Is that your grandad?’ she whispered.

Pressing her lips together, Kate nodded.

Like a figure lying on a cathedral tomb, smooth and marble cold, his hands rested upon his chest, fingers curling in natural repose. He was dressed in a long, white nightshirt, his head on an embroidered pillow.

Ella shuddered. ‘Let me down . . .’ and her mother’s hold loosened and Ella was standing on the floor again, the silent, lifeless figure gone from her view.

‘Go back to Nannie,’ her mother said absently. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’