“Ah, yes,” he said, with fumbling fingers that betrayed his exterior of calm. “There’s also this.” Out of his pocket came a fountain pen, with bottle-green marbling and gold lid. Emily took the pen, held it in her palm, then suddenly cried out, bashed her fist against the porcelain and slipped down to the floor.

“Are you okay?” he asked, rushing to her side, only for her to dip her head, try to hide her tears. “I’m so sorry,” he continued, reaching out a hand, then bringing it away. “Do you know what this means?” Catriona hadn’t told him. Asked him only to deliver the letter and pen.

Emily nodded, then shook her head, a low moan escaping her lips. Max came over and laid a paw on her leg. The dog seemed to understand her pain, emitting a soft whine as she wrapped an arm around his neck and buried her face in his fur.

“Is there anyone who can help?” Mr. Thomas asked, looking around the kitchen for some kind of sign of what he was supposed to do. His eyes skimmed over the obvious, the everyday items so commonplace to all. A laptop, a coffee machine, a collection of keys hanging from a row of hooks on the wall, two pairs of Wellington boots stood side by side by the back door. A framed cover of a children’s book, written by one of England’s best-loved authors.

Emily still sat on the floor, one hand absently stroking Max’s ears, the other turning the pen over and over.

All of a sudden, he felt the full weight of his intrusion, of witnessing something he should not, and it made him agitated, annoyed at his decision to come here, to play the hand of fate when it really was none of his concern.

“I really am so very sorry,” he muttered as he took hold of Max’s collar and lifted him away from the woman. “Please accept my apologies for barging in on you like this. It wasn’t my intention to cause you any distress, only I made your grandmother a promise and, well, it’s not something I felt I could ignore.” He was rambling, a nervous habit of his, all the more obvious in a room so silent, apart from the tick of a clock and the click of Max’s claws on the floor as they left.

She gave him no more than a cursory glance as he left, and it wasn’t until he closed the door behind him that he realized, for all his blathering, for the shock of what he had passed on, she hadn’t said a single word the entire time he was there.

3

MAGPIE

Pica pica

The man was gone. The dog too. It made Emily feel sad and relieved all at once. To have someone give her a message from the grave was so very typical of her grandmother. Planning it all down to the person who would deliver the news, with a dog no less, as if that might somehow soften the blow.