As a police officer, Will had often been the bearer of tragic news. Almost invariably the recipient told him he must be mistaken. “It’s all a terrible mistake” was what people said, over and over.

‘When? Where?’

‘He’s going to ring you back, darling. I said you’d only be a minute or two. I’m sorry. I was so shocked I didn’t ask the right questions, and you weren’t here.’ Her tone was almost accusatory.

Then she was holding him, hugging him to her like a baby.

The phone rang and he rose unsteadily to his feet.

Thankfully, the man knew his job. He was sympathetic but factual, offering Will and his family every assistance. He would of course ring back as soon as he knew more himself.

Keeping his voice steady, Will thanked the man. He was about to hang up when a thought struck him.

‘Sophie! What about Sophie? Was she with them?’

The officer assured him that his eight-year-old niece was safe and well, being cared for by her best friend’s family. Will exhaled noisily. At least Eva’s child was unhurt. He sat back down at the table and put his head in his hands. ‘She was only in her thirties, Kate. That’s no age to die. And Guy. I couldn’t have wished for a better husband for my little sister. Both dead. He said it seems that their vehicle came off the road. I didn’t even know they were in Germany.’ Kate held him while he cried. As the sobs subsided, she told him she loved him, was there for him. Her smile belonged to the old Kate, even if he barely recognised the gaunt and pallid face that wore it.

They talked about Eva well into the night.

Later, just before he finally drifted off into an exhausted slumber, he thought of Sophie. ‘I wonder what will happen to her, Kate? Guy was an only child and his parents are getting on in years. I suppose I’m her only close relative.’

Did the arm that held him tighten?

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT

After a fitful sleep, Will finally got up at five and went to the kitchen for tea. He recalled bitterly that today was his birthday. Poor Kate. She had made the effort to go out and organise something to give him, and now her surprise would be ruined. Now the initial shock had worn off somewhat, he saw his sister’s death in a clearer light. He loved her dearly, of course, but they had seen so little of each other. They were not close now, not as they had been as children.

He poured a second cup of tea and took it up to his sleeping wife. He quietly put the mug on her bedside table and slipped back into bed beside her. She stirred and nestled into him.

‘Morning, my Bear. Did you manage to sleep at all?’