Ciara sounds genuine in her sympathy, but she has always been one to manipulate a room.

‘It’s okay,’ I lie. ‘I’m over it. It’s only a doll, right?’

‘Oh, but she was your special doll, from your mum.’

Her tone is so subtle that not everyone would pick up that she is goading me. I try to ignore her. I don’t have the patience for her games right now.

‘Has there been any news?’ I ask, eager to change the subject.

Kathleen answers, ‘Not yet. Marie phoned earlier, said she was trying to get some information from that DC King woman. I just don’t like it one bit. This is cruel. To take him away from us like this. It’s cruel and unnecessary. You think they could at least keep us informed. I’ve had people calling, texting, asking what’s happening and what am I supposed to tell them? That he has unexpected marks on his body?’ She bursts into tears, her shoulders shuddering. ‘It’s mortifying.’

‘It’s just procedure,’ I say. ‘We have to keep telling ourselves that. I’m sure none of us has anything to hide.’

‘I’m sure Mum will call as soon as she has any more news,’ Ciara adds. ‘But maybe I’ll text her again to be sure.’

Kathleen nods as Ciara starts to tap a message to Marie on her phone. There’s a moment’s silence that does nothing to quiet my growing paranoia.

‘I think I’d like to stay here tonight,’ Kathleen says, breaking the silence. ‘In case there’s any word. I mean, it’s getting on a bit and I don’t want to be anywhere else if he comes home.’

‘I’d say they probably won’t release his remains until the morning now,’ Alex says.

Kathleen and Ciara both glare at him as if the thought has only just struck them for the first time.

‘I’m just saying, we’ve had no word at all. It’s almost eight now and if they did release him, sure it would be the best part of two hours down the road from Belfast. The roads are icing up, too. Might be better for everyone if we just settled ourselves to the notion it will be the morning.’

‘Well, we’ll be staying here anyway,’ Ciara pipes up. ‘And if Kathleen wants to stay then she should stay.’

‘But where will she sleep?’ I ask. ‘We’ll be in my old room. You and Stella are in the spare room.’

‘Sure, there’s Joe’s room,’ Kathleen says.

I look around, waiting for someone else to say that there’s something a little weird about that. His room, where he died. Where all his belongings still are. His bed, which he died in.

No one speaks. ‘Is that not a little …’ I start.

‘It’s not a little anything,’ Ciara snaps before turning to Kathleen. ‘I’ll get you some fresh linen and towels. I can ask Stella to pick up some of your things from Pauline on her way back here.’

‘That would be brilliant. I can call Pauline and let her know she’ll call in. It will really mean a lot to me to be here,’ Kathleen says, blinking back tears.