“Not really,” said Andy, shifting from one foot to the other. “I didn’t really.”

“But Danny said it wasn’t that kind of service.”

“At least Dermot spoke,” said Jude.

“He was very nervous,” said Andy. “I’m not sure it went down very well.”

“It was good,” said Jude awkwardly.

“It’s Alfie you should feel for.” Tara took a step forward. Her mascara was smudged. Jude could smell her perfume and see a tiny pulse in her jaw. “My little grandson.”

“Of course,” said Jude. She badly wanted to leave.

“Liam adored his little boy.”

“I’m sure.”

“Alfie won’t remember him, though. He won’t remember how his father loved him and looked after him and was proud of him. It’s terrible.”

“It is terrible. But at least he’s surrounded by people who love him.”

“Tara and I want to see him regularly,” said Andy. “That’s the thing.”

“Of course.”

“So no matter what Danny says, you’ll make sure of it?” Tara put a hand on Jude’s arm, gripping it hard.

“Me?”

“You’re the executor.”

“That’s just the will,” said Jude, horrified. “It’s about possessions. I have nothing to do with anything else.”

“In the will, Liam said if they both died, I would take care of Alfie,” said Tara. “I’m his granny. So I have the right to spend time with him. The legal right.”

“I can’t do anything about this,” said Jude. “It’s nothing to do with me. But surely you will be able to see Alfie as much as you want, for your sake and for his.”

“You’re a little fool.” Tara took her hand away; her lip curled.

“Tara,” said Andy warningly.

“You don’t know anything at all.” Tara was speaking in a hiss; her eyes glittered. “Little goody-goody doctor.”

Jude stepped back from her.

“I’m really sorry about everything,” she said. “Talk to Danny, sort things out. Now I’ve got to go.”

She pushed her way through the press of people. In the hall she met Jan. He had taken off his yellow sweatshirt and was wearing a thick gray jumper instead. He looked thoroughly miserable.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m just leaving.”

“I too want to leave.”

“It’ll soon be over.”

“Why are you here?”

“I was just dropping off some branches.”

“No.” He frowned at her. “Why do you come?”

“To the house, you mean?”

He nodded.

“Because, well, everything that happened and then the will.” Jude made a vague, expansive gesture.

“If you like it so much here—”

“I don’t. It’s not that at all.”

“If you like it so much here,” he repeated stolidly, “then you can have my room.”

“I’m sorry?”

“If you like it so much here, you can have my room.”

“I don’t want your room! I have my own place.” Though of course this wasn’t strictly true.