I didn’t go back to my house until the day of the funeral, after everyone had left the reception. I hadn’t been there since Tom died. I stayed at my flat and, oddly enough, nothing happened to scare me in all that time. At first nobody was allowed into our house and then I couldn’t face going there. I was too superstitious. It was only after the cremation that I could believe he was truly gone.

•   •   •

I was the last to leave the hotel after the funeral reception. There’d been quite a crowd and I was exhausted and aching after talking to so many people, many of whom I didn’t know. Tom’s brother was there with his wife; they were kind to me but didn’t seem to know what to say, and I wondered what Tom had told them about me after I left. They hadn’t been in touch since I moved out, and I assumed I wouldn’t see them again. They talked to Josh and to a few distant cousins but didn’t stay long as they were traveling back to Scotland that afternoon. I heard them arrange for Josh to drive up there in early September and was glad they’d be there for him. There were a couple of neighbors and some of Tom’s colleagues, too, who were singing his praises as though he’d died a martyr for his cause.

Perhaps he had.

Tom’s ex-wife, Belinda, was there with her husband, Martin; her eyes were as dry as mine. And Josh. His weren’t, and my heart broke as I saw him go from table to table to talk to people about his father. He avoided me and I wondered whether he was frightened of breaking down or whether he’d guessed that I wasn’t actually mourning. I still hadn’t spoken to him about Tom’s death; I’d called Belinda the day it happened and she’d told him. She called a few days later to see how I was and told me that Josh had taken it badly. That was a very tough day.

Tom’s funeral really hit home how few friends I had. Most of them had disappeared over the years. Tom would complain about them, especially if they wanted to see me alone. If they called me he’d be cold afterward and say it wouldn’t bother him if it was someone else, but that particular person should be off-limits. My best friend from my university days, Chris, had said when Tom and I first got together that he was isolating me. I couldn’t believe it and after a while I didn’t see her again. Perhaps now I could find the courage to write to her, to tell her that she was right.