I take a deep breath, look down at the clods of dirt and tell myself I have to do this. I try not to think too much about Yin lying on this cold, sodden ground. When I posed for Chloe I think I was trying to understand what it might have felt like.

Together Chunjuan, Albert, Nelson and I unpack the plastic bags.

Chunjuan lights a small fire in an old cooking oil tin with the top cut off. She shows me how to fold up sheets of red-and-gold paper and we start burning them.

Albert and Nelson, solemn as priests, lay out paper plates with a pile of mandarins and a packet of biscuits. I wonder how much they understand about what happened to Yin.

We light thick sticks of incense and then push the ends deep into the dirt where they stand up like miniature trees.

Chunjuan, Albert and Nelson kneel on the earth, press their hands together, bow their heads. I get down and copy them.

Smoke spirals, minuscule pieces of black ash fly about, sticking to my face. My knees are damp almost immediately, my fingertips are hot from burning the paper. Wind shushes through the grass, rippling across us.

A thin animal sound comes from Chunjuan, the barest trickle. She cries softly. She cries louder.

And then the wailing starts.

Chunjuan wails like an animal in pain, a baby keening in a cot, like someone facing a black, dark void.

Her face is a tortured mask. I’ve never seen anyone in so much pain, and still she wails.

Albert and Nelson shift next to me.

I look down and they’re holding hands. Their faces crumple, they stare at their mum and they look so confused and scared.

Chunjuan needs me. She wanted me here and she trusts me to know the right thing to do.

I help Albert and Nelson to their feet, brush them down and take their hands, one twin on each side, and we retreat to a safe distance and we wait and we wait and we wait. I gather them close around me, being the safe grownup for them, their arms circling my waist and my hands stroking their baby-fine hair.

Back in the car, I shake my head when Mum asks if I want to talk about it.

Stephen practically lifts Chunjuan into the passenger seat. Albert and Nelson seem to be doing better.

I’m chilled to the bone. Numb. I watch the boring grey nothingness of the suburbs race by and think about how Yin’s story ended in the most depressing place ever.

Mum gets us takeaway tacos and the sweet tang of cola rushes through my body.

When we’re getting close to home I finally reply to Chloe’s message.