Grief professionals. Is that me? We’re the ones giving the booklets out: the tender authority.

T = To accept the reality of the loss

E = Experience the pain of loss

A = Adjust to the new environment without the lost object

R = Reinvest in the new reality

(J. William Worden, ‘Four Tasks of Mourning’, Grief Counselling and Grief Therapy)

TEAR. What a stupid acronym. For some reason I’m thinking about evidence; I have to remove the evidence. And why do I feel guilty?

‘The only way to stop feeling guilty about something is to make a start at it’ is a thing my mother used to say to me as a child. She’s right. I always feel better when I get to work. ‘You are practical-minded’ is another thing my mother used to say, and it’s true. If I hadn’t wound up a nurse I would’ve liked to be a painter and decorator or an engineer, maybe a potter. I like fixing things. I make myself useful. It’s just that out of all the practical professions, being a nurse seemed the most practical at the time. I enjoy most chores.

Player one, you may now make your first move. I drop the booklet on to the coffee table and pick up the remote control. On TV three presenters, one in a suit, two in red dresses, are raising money for charity. They introduce several acts: a familiar format. I turn the volume right down but leave the picture on the screen. I pull the Hoover out of its den in the corridor, its muzzle dragging behind us, a reluctant green herbivore. I switch it on. We start in the middle of the room; it’s easy. Together we are predatory; we seek fluff, suck it up. It’s satisfying teamwork. We claw our way under the sofa. The drone fills my mind. When I’m done, I lean the Hoover against the wall. On TV a plump teenager is spinning an impressive number of plates on sticks, balancing them on each flat surface of his body: the top of one foot, a bent knee, shoulders, the palms of his hands, his ginger head. Patches of red crawl up his neck from the effort. They are a deep crimson colour and look painful. The audience quietly cheers. The door to the kitchen is open.