As he daydreamed, his eyes were taking in everything around him. Even while asleep Eric listened to the world around him. It was a habit that had kept him alive longer than any of his contemporaries.

Maeve was reading the Sun’s problem page and drinking a cup of strong tea when the doorbell rang. Sighing, she went down the stairs to answer it, annoyed at the interruption to her morning break. The doorbell rang again and she shouted, ‘All right, all right, I’m coming.’

Flinging open the door she was confronted by two policemen.

‘Mrs Brunos?’

Maeve felt the fear a policemen at the door brings to all mothers.

‘Yes. What can I do for you?’

The older policeman smiled sympathetically.

‘Can we come inside, love? We need to talk to you.’

They followed Maeve up the stairs, their heavy boots making a loud noise on each step. Inside her small front room, Maeve faced them fearfully.

‘Is it one of my children . . .’

The older man spoke again, his face regretful, his whole body language telling her that something bad had happened.

‘It’s about your son, Stephen Brunos. I’m afraid he met with an accident in Sri Lanka.’

Maeve’s mouth moved a few times, but at first she couldn’t get any sound out of it.

‘What kind of accident?’

The younger man put his hand on her arm. ‘Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make us all a nice cup of tea, eh? Is your husband around, love?’

Maeve shook her head, allowing the policeman to sit her down on one of the worn armchairs.

‘What’s happened to my boy? Tell me what’s happened? ’

A small voice in the back of her mind was relieved it was Stephen they’d come about, and not one of the girls, Mario, or Patrick. Patrick the womaniser, Patrick who came and went like a ghost. The policeman was talking once more, but Maeve couldn’t take in what he was saying.

‘The British consulate has established that it was indeed your son’s body. His passport was in his hotel room and the photograph was his. It seems he had rather a lot to drink, and then went swimming. There’s quite an undertow apparently. A terrible tragedy . . .’

Maeve wasn’t listening any more. She had heard all she needed or wanted to hear.

The front door opened and Pa Brunos’s heavy tread could be heard on the stairs. The tears came then, because she felt so sorry for him, because she now knew what the police were going to say, and once Pa heard it as well it would be true.