‘They’re running tests. That’s all they’ll say.’ He plucked the Kit-Cat clock off the wall, gave it a rub with a duster and put it back.

‘Christian. What are you doing?’ Sarah pinched the top of her nose as she contained a sneeze.

‘Cleaning up,’ he replied quietly. ‘I want to make the place nice for when she comes home.’ Every word he spoke seemed an effort and he could not meet her eye.

‘But this sounds serious.’ Sarah watched him intently as he continued to dust and clean. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and Mr Sheen. Two of Elsie’s cats followed him around the room, miaowing pitifully. ‘Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?’

‘I’ve just come back from there. The doctors sent me home to get some sleep.’

‘Then can I make you a cup of tea?’ She knew the trauma of a sudden shock, but Christian’s behaviour was bizarre. ‘You must be upset.’

‘No time for tea,’ Christian said, picking up two more bags. ‘I need to get rid of these old clothes.’ She followed him out to the back garden which consisted of a scrub lawn and some sorrowful-looking shrubs. A barrel was blazing in the middle of the patio. So that was where the smoke had come from. It hissed and crackled beneath the evening sky as he threw in a handful of baggy clothes. Mesmerised, he watched the flames take hold of the stained material and turn it into ash. ‘They had to get a special ambulance. One that could take her weight. They stretchered her out through the back double doors.’ His words were flat as he looked straight ahead. It was like he was talking to himself.

Sarah stood, her hands in her trouser pockets, bristling from the cold. She’d have to invest in a decent scarf and gloves if she was intending on spending so much time outdoors. She raised her hands to the heat as Elsie’s old clothes burned. It felt as if he was giving his mum a funeral. Except she wasn’t dead.

Why was she even still standing here? If Christian wanted to clean up the house, he was well within his rights. But then she remembered how unfit Elsie had been, and how answering the front door had been an effort in itself.

‘What was she doing upstairs?’

The answer came instantly in the same flat tone. ‘Probably looking for chocolate. She’s meant to be cutting down.’ He stood, motionless, watching the smoke rise.

‘Is there anyone I can call?’ Sarah drove a hand through her hair. Already, she could smell the stink of smoke on her clothes.

‘For what?’ Christian looked at her blankly before going back inside.

She watched his gaze flit around the room, landing on a picture of Elsie’s parents. In one swift movement, he pulled it off the wall and threw it in the bin.