I tell him about Callum’s reaction to the painting, and he laughs uproariously, like I knew he would. My cheeks are aching with smiles at hearing him, but my eyes are curiously blurry. I miss him. I will miss him enormously if anything should happen to him. These little hooks, they catch and hold me; I feel them bite. I’m no different to Carrie after all: my mother’s passing has made me all too aware of Pete’s advancing years. “Anyway, it’s the oddest thing,” he continues.

“What is?”

“Well, I checked the books, and it’s supposed to be in Denmark. She sold it in the mid-eighties. For a pittance, if I’m honest; it was one of the first. She got barely enough for a decent supermarket shop out of it.”

“Then how come it’s in the Manse?”

“I haven’t the faintest. I’ve put a call in to the chap who bought it. Perhaps he’d swapped it for another, and we didn’t record it, or we were supposed to be selling it for him and somehow it fell through the cracks. Though I’d be surprised.” I would too. Between them, Karen and Pete were very on top of all the business aspects. Pete still runs an extremely reputable gallery and art dealing has been his life’s work. Both of them knew that you could never afford to neglect a customer.

“Wait, Carrie said a guy from Denmark came to the funeral—is it the same person?”

“That’s right. I’ll let you know if I hear anything. Speaking of Carrie, um, are you two getting along all right?”

I blink. “Fine.” He doesn’t say anything. “Were you expecting that we might not?” I add a half laugh to make the question sound like I’m teasing him.

He laughs a little awkwardly in return. “Well, it’s been a long time since you spent any time together. You’re both grown-ups now; you’re different people from when you last lived together. And you can both be . . .”

“Delightful. Charming. Stormingly good company.”

“That’s exactly what I was trying to say.” His chuckle is genuine this time. “You know she only took the Edinburgh part because of you. She could have been doing a Tom Stoppard thing instead.”

“Really? I didn’t—I didn’t know about that.”

“Well. Anyway. No Safe Place: mind you keep it stored properly in case we’ve got to ship it back. No direct sunlight—”