‘A bit, babe. It’s just difficult to take on board.’

‘I can’t believe it either. I spent half the night thinking about their wedding day. All those uniforms! Who would have thought . . . ?’ She fell silent.

Every time he thought of Eva, Will’s mind was crowded with images from their childhood. Eva on her three-wheeler, him on a racing bike. Eva sitting on the garden wall, him balanced beside her on one foot. Eva as a bridesmaid, smiling out from beneath the wreath of flowers in her gleaming chestnut hair, he scowling, uncomfortable and stiff in the best suit he hated.

‘If you had to sum up Eva in a single word, what would that be?’ Kate mumbled, half asleep. ‘I think I would choose vibrant. Yes, vibrant.’

Kate was right. Eva dressed in colours that no one else ventured to wear. She went out to dinners in dresses like butterfly wings, drawing the admiring glances of everyone in the room. Even her wedding dress was a bright Aegean blue. Will sighed, turning his thoughts to more practical matters. Where would the funeral be? Probably Canada. When? Flowers! He must organise flowers — his brilliant little sister would have to have something bright. And then there was Sophie.

His thoughts were interrupted by Kate extricating herself from him and reaching for her tea. ‘Did the air force people say when they’d be ringing again?’

‘Uh, no, he just said he would keep us informed, so probably later today. Not exactly the kind of news you want to hear on your birthday, is it?’

For a moment Kate said nothing. He waited, fully expecting her to leap from the bed, run out and return with his present. Surprise!

Instead, she turned towards him slowly, and a huge tear welled up in her eye and rolled down her cheek. ‘Oh, Will! How could I forget?’

For the first time in their relationship, he felt truly alone. Her tears were real enough, so he consoled her, meanwhile bitterly resenting her total preoccupation with the house. He couldn’t help remembering his birthday of ten years before. It was the last time Eva and Guy had been able to get to England for a short holiday. They had all gone to Lincoln for dinner in a top restaurant, and Kate had arranged for a birthday cake in the shape of a police car. There had been balloons, sparklers and party poppers, and the four of them had behaved like teenagers.

Having sent his red-eyed wife off for a shower, he lay back against the pillows, finishing his tea and trying desperately to suppress his hurt. In the light of two tragic deaths his pain seemed petty and selfish. He felt it all the same.

He went down to prepare breakfast, still half expecting to see the card propped up against the toaster. Surprise! Surprise!

* * *