‘I’d prefer to call in and do that face to face. It looks as if we’ve got a busy day ahead of us.’

It would probably be good to keep Gemma occupied, but he’d be up until after midnight catching up with some crucial assessments he had to do for work.

They got the shopping over and done with, then went to the lawyer’s office, where the receptionist was very helpful once Adam had explained the problem.

She nipped in to see her employer between clients and he took Adam and Gemma into a little side room to have a quick word and arrange for them to get a copy of the will.

‘Two copies,’ Gemma said. ‘I want my own.’

He glanced quickly at Adam, who nodded.

‘When you get the will, I suggest you go somewhere private to read it. Wills can be … upsetting. Though this one is very straightforward.’

So they went to sit in the car, each with a copy.

Adam finished first and saw Gemma brushing away a tear. He didn’t say anything, waited till she looked at him.

‘So you own everything now except my half of the house, Gemma.’

‘I’d rather have Mum back.’

‘Of course you would. So would I.’ He tried to hold her hand for comfort and she let him for a minute or two, then shook him off.

‘What now?’

‘We have to arrange the funeral. When your mother’s friend rang me she said there has to be an autopsy, though they have a fair idea what happened.’

‘Cut Mum up? That’s horrid!’

‘I agree.’ He let a minute or two pass then said, ‘Do you think your mother would have preferred a female undertaker?’

Gemma managed a nod but didn’t seem able to speak.

‘I know where there is one. A friend of mine used them when his mother died recently and he said they were very good.’

The undertakers were, but the interview was inevitably a harrowing ordeal and Gemma’s anguish had tears welling in his eyes as well, more for her than for her mother.

His daughter even let him put an arm round her as they left.

She began sobbing loudly the minute they were in the car and throughout the journey, and bolted for her room as soon as they got into the house.

Damn. He’d forgotten to ask Gemma if there was a spare front door key. He might need to get a new one cut for himself because Judith had made a big show of changing the locks the very day he moved out.

After he’d put his things away in the spare bedroom, he went to knock on Gemma’s door and heard her talking to someone. On the phone to a friend, he supposed. ‘What do you want for tea?’ he asked when she came to the door, eyes reddened, lashes damp.

‘I’ll get it for myself.’

‘I’d prefer us to eat together from now on.’

‘You’re not a good cook.’