“It’s good of her to come.” Olive looked down her short, pointy nose.

“Sure is.” Milt shifted in his chair. “What’s that…three visits since you moved in?”

“There’s no need for sarcasm, Milton. She’s been more often than that. Anyway, it’s easier for me to drive to her place and visit. I can help with cooking.”

Olive was looking at her son but the words were for Natalie who’d fallen in love with the big farmhouse kitchen, not long after she’d fallen in love with Milt. There had been no room for two women in the kitchen in spite of its size and once the children had come along Olive had much preferred to look after them than cook. It was an arrangement that had worked for both women. Natalie’s girls were close by and lovingly looked after, while she had free rein to cook. It was an enjoyable outlet for her and while no-one had ever voiced it, she secretly felt she was a much better cook than her mother-in-law. Olive had always pitched in with food prep at the busy times and was on hand when it came to cleaning up. Natalie was happy to take one of Olive’s jibes once she realised the topic of Milt and Veronica’s past wasn’t on the agenda as she’d feared.

“Anyway,” Milt tapped the table in front of him. “What was the purpose of her visit?”

“You make your sister sound like an outsider.” Olive’s face formed the pout she’d perfected when she wanted to chastise her son without using words. “She just called in to see me.”

“Connie doesn’t just call in. There’s always a reason for her visits.”

Olive humphed and shifted in her chair. “We did talk about wills and funerals.”

“That’s cheerful.”

ABBA music blared from the den opposite as if to mock him.

“Granny, it’s starting,” Laura called as Bree hobbled past the kitchen door.

“Tell Laura to keep going without me, Bree,” Olive said. “I’ll be there soon. And would you shut the kitchen door, please. No point in letting out the warm air.”

Bree did as she was bid and the music became muffled.

“Whose funeral?” Milt said.

“Pardon?” Olive looked back at her son.

Milt took a breath. Natalie could see he was struggling to be patient. He wasn’t close to his sister. He always said Connie had been spoiled but Natalie recognised Olive and Clem’s indulgent parenting had also extended to Milt. They’d both been spoiled, if perhaps in different ways.

“Whose will and funeral were you and Connie discussing?”