Accepting old age took bravery. That knowledge you were in your twilight years. That it wouldn’t be long until it was all over. Your time was about to be up and there was nothing you could do. Except wait. Wait and wait and go full circle. Ending life just as you started it: needing to be fed, unable to walk, a vulnerable bundle reliant on those who loved you. Before Gigi the thought of ageing depressed me because I couldn’t see the bigger picture. I couldn’t see what it meant. Now I would wear every grey hair, every wrinkle as a badge of pride. I was still alive. I was getting older. I was still here with my daughter.

Not like Robin.

Not like our poor Robin.

A fast blast of a life before he was taken out too soon. Before he really lived. I thought of the Northern line girl Robin had been seeing. He was all full of hope for what lay ahead. And now it was over. I couldn’t remember her name. I was dreading having to go through his messages, reading classic Robin lines where he was attempting to be flirty, to be funny. Invading his privacy. The final indignity. But I needed to track her down. I didn’t want her to think he was ghosting her. I’d do the right thing. Tell her and his parents a story about a heroic death and grieve with them.

The shooting party were making their way across one of Lord Wycombe’s fields to reach their respective pegs. The first drive was about to begin.

I scanned the land around us. There was a forest across the way where the beaters would be trundling through, raising the pheasants. If anyone came towards the shooting party we’d see them well in advance. Peng was laughing along with Lord Wycombe as they approached their neighbouring pegs. Peng’s bodyguard was with her. He looked as uneasy about the situation as we were.

Frederick arrived at our peg. ‘Gamekeeper has lent us a couple of shotguns.’ He passed me a gun and a bag of ammo.

‘Tenebris got Robin.’

I loaded the gun.

His eyes widened. ‘Are you sure?’

I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak. Saying it out loud in the open air, not just down in the dark of the Platform, made it all seem so much more real.

‘I’m sorry. I’m very, very sorry.’

‘Hello there, girlie.’ An old man all in tweed arrived to stand at the peg next to us. ‘You here for good luck? Come to load, have you?’

A flurry of pheasants flew over of us.

I aimed the gun and fired. Bang bang. Thud. Thud. I reloaded fast. Bang bang. Another couple of satisfying thuds as pheasants dropped from the sky.

The old duffer’s jaw dropped. He nodded at Frederick. ‘Your wife knows how to shoot!’