I gazed through the window at the row of stumps where the conifers had been. What on earth was I doing there?

Evan returned, carrying the Bloody Marys on a tray.

‘No celery, I’m afraid,’ he said.

‘I’ve always considered celery a pointless vegetable,’ I replied.

He burst out laughing again—that startling bark. ‘You’re a tonic,’ he said. ‘Can’t tell you how long it is since I’ve had a laugh.’

He was wearing jeans and a red T-shirt; he looked showered and shaved and more athletic than I remembered. Light on his feet; limbered up. As he passed me the tumbler, I imagined him in his vet’s gown, caressing a dog’s head as it subsided on his knee. One way or another, he must have experienced a lot of deaths.

We sat down, him in the armchair, me on the sofa. ‘I found your raincoat,’ he said, pointing to it.

‘Actually it’s my ex-husband’s.’ Had I told him I was single? I couldn’t remember. ‘He forgot to take it when he left.’

I waited a moment for this to sink in. Maybe it did.

‘Well, it’s good of you to come all this way,’ Evan said.

‘It’s no trouble.’

‘And to the funeral. I was very touched by how many people turned up. And how kind they’ve been. I’ve had an endless stream of visitors. There’s enough food in the fridge for an army.’

Azra’s husky laugh. A whole lot of women will be crawling—no, galloping—out of the woodwork with their casseroles and condolences.

‘She was obviously very much loved,’ I said. ‘I wish we’d stayed in touch.’

‘I heard all sorts of stories about her college days.’ He grinned. ‘I bet you two got up to some shenanigans.’

‘We certainly did.’

‘Some of it unprintable, I imagine.’

I raised my eyebrows suggestively.

‘Susan had such a zest for life, didn’t she?’ he said.

‘Gosh, yes.’

‘And yet she was such a deeply caring person.’

I nodded. ‘She was.’

‘Did you go on that legendary camping trip?’

‘Er, which one?’

‘Was there more than one? I meant the one to Tenby. When the Hells Angels … you know … It must have been pretty alarming.’

‘Ah, yes.’

‘They wouldn’t have forgotten that in a hurry, knowing Susie. Catch them trying that again.’

I had to stop this. So I blurted out: ‘Actually my husband died, too.’

Evan stared at me. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ He leaned across and put his hand on my knee.

‘I said we’d split up because if I say he died I start to cry and people get embarrassed.’

‘I quite understand,’ Evan said.

‘And it saves going into the details all over again.’

His hand rested on my knee. ‘When did it happen, if I may ask?’

‘Two months ago.’

‘Good Lord.’

‘Cancer. Like your wife.’

Evan’s face softened. He took away his hand and rubbed the back of his neck.

‘How terrible,’ he said. ‘How long was he…?’

‘A couple of years. Prostate. Then it spread to his bones.’