I ignored him. The pain in my hip was getting worse. I wanted a hot bath and some time to think. I wanted to see if my son was OK and find out why he hadn’t been at school. I wanted to say thank you and tell him off all at the same time.

‘He’s with the undertaker in Haltwhistle,’ said Cordelia, when she realized I wasn’t going to answer. ‘I think he’d like to be buried there from what little I knew of him.’

‘Buried with his secrets, no doubt,’ laughed Harper. ‘That book of his – shame it never saw light of day.’

I tried to persuade myself to smile but my face wasn’t obeying me. I was tired and cold and everything ached. I moved myself over to the table and picked up Brian’s jacket. It was damp and dirty and smelled like him – that strange mingling of chemicals, meat and cigarette smoke. I carried it to the sink and picked up the nailbrush. I started scrubbing the dried-in grime from the elbows.

‘Did anybody mention what we thought we saw?’ asked Cordelia, and I promise you she flicked her hair when she said it. The girl knew what to do with men. Forgive me, but I don’t reckon she were a virgin on her wedding night. She’s told me as much since. Told me more than I really asked to know.

‘I heard a whisper,’ smiled Harper. ‘Not to worry, you had a fright, so I heard. The mind’s a funny thing. I remember looking at a cloud when I was sick with tonsillitis and I swear I saw Christ on the cross in among the ripples. Don’t feel silly.’

‘Thank you,’ said Cordelia. Honestly, she had no shame.

Then two things happened. They might have been at the same time or they might have been moments apart but I remember them as happening at once. I heard John open the back door and come running in like he was being chased. He was saying my name. Saying it like a daft lad, over and over, like a pecking bird.

And then I found it. Patting the pockets, feeling embarrassed, muttering that I was fine and he didn’t need to make a fuss. I put my hand in Brian’s jacket pocket and it took an effort not to jump back like I’d been bit. I turned my back to the room to look at it properly. My lungs felt like they were being squashed. My arms went all chicken-skinned. It felt like there were crumbs under my clothes.

It sat there. Just sat there – glinting up at me from the blood and grime on my palm.

Bullet-shaped. Solid. Smooth. Smiling up at me.

A gold tooth.

CORDELIA