“None of us can speak,” said Irina. “None of us have the words. We are in a state of shock. Of trauma. What can you say about a woman who lived life to the full, who made other people suffer but who suffered herself, whose partner was killed and who was butchered in her own house? What can you say? Nothing.”

The curtains dropped to the floor.

“Hammer,” said the man above them, reaching down his arm.

Flakes of plaster fell to the floor. Jude watched as a crack appeared in the ceiling and began to crawl toward the wall.

“I have a piano,” said Irina. “What will I do with the piano?”

“Are you all moving out?” asked Jude.

“I think Liam and Danny had lots of debts,” said Irina vaguely. “So it turns out that this house officially belongs to someone else now.”

“Who?”

“Exactly,” said Irina darkly. “And anyway, who wants to live with Danny’s ghost?”

Jude left the room and went upstairs. She had a list of the things Tara wanted for Alfie: a soft elephant that his grandparents had given him at birth, a xylophone, a favorite picture book, a particular plastic bowl, pajamas with flamingos on them, a colorful quilt, a potty in the shape of a hippo.

It felt wrong to be here, tiptoeing into rooms, pulling open cupboards and drawers. She dreaded Vin returning. She found the quilt in Danny’s room, which looked uncannily the same as when Jude had fallen asleep on her bed with Alfie beside her. She remembered his flop of gleaming curls and the warmth of his breath on her cheek, while downstairs the horrible party continued. His pajamas were rolled up in the corner, and when Jude picked them up they smelled faintly of urine. The xylophone was under the bed, with one of its metal slats missing. The potty was in the first-floor bathroom.

Jude hesitated, then went downstairs in search of the other things.

Erika was in the conservatory, sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up and surrounded by the chaos of half-packed boxes. She glanced up as Jude entered.

“I’m just having a rest,” she said.

“Of course. I’m looking for a couple of things for Alfie. I’ll only be here a minute. I don’t mean to get in anyone’s way.”

“I don’t want any of this stuff anyway. I don’t know why we don’t just set fire to it and have done. It’s all horrible. Who wants a dead plant or a cracked picture or a porcelain bathtub or velvet curtains full of moths or rugs that are falling to pieces?”

Jude saw the picture book and bent to pick it up. She looked out into the garden; two men were emptying a brazier, and as she watched they lifted it up and carried it toward the conservatory. It was obviously heavy, so she opened the door for them.