Thinking of Lizzy made her smile. She was looking forward to seeing Peter in Australia. She had been banjaxed with excitement over it, as her mother used to say.

Patrick walked into Katie’s hall carrying a bottle of red wine. Kate took it from him and he slipped off his overcoat, placing it over the worn banister rail. He followed her through to the kitchen and Evelyn favoured him with one of her wide smiles.

‘Come away in and sit yourself down. It’s enough to cut the lugs from you out there tonight!’

Patrick grinned. He loved listening to Evelyn’s voice, it was like listening to his own mother again. He missed the Southern Irish accent. It had a musical quality about it, even when spoken raucously.

Patrick took the corkscrew Kate handed to him, and opened the bottle of wine. He poured them all a glass. Evelyn took hers, and after a large gulp said, ‘It must have been terrible for you today, Patrick. You just sit yourself down and get something hot inside you. Food always makes people feel better.’

Patrick looked down at his shoes.

Kate was making a salad. As she washed the vegetables, Evelyn kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’m off then, Katie. Goodbye, Patrick, I’ll probably see you later.’

‘Let me run you round to Doris’s, Mum.’

Evelyn held up her hand. ‘I’m quite capable of going by shanks’s pony, Kate. You get your food down you while it’s hot.’

Patrick smiled at her and watched her putting on her coat, scarf, woollen hat and thermal boots. She had them all laid out in the front room. Giving them both another wave she left the house, a large leather bag clutched to her chest.

‘She’s a lovely woman, Kate, you’re lucky to have her.’

‘Don’t I know it! Why don’t you put some of the dishes on the breakfast bar, this salad’s nearly ready.’

Patrick set about helping. As they worked they chatted amiably about little things. The distraction of doing mundane everyday tasks took the edge off his misery. It had not occurred to him until today that he had not really grieved for his child because he had not really believed she was dead. It was only the lowering of her coffin into the earth that had brought it home to him. Finally and irrevocably.

Kate placed the garlic bread and salad on the laden surface and sat opposite him.

Patrick picked up his wine glass and held it in the air. ‘To us?’ It was more a question than a statement.

Kate picked up her own glass and touched it against his. ‘To Mandy, may she rest in peace.’