‘No, you’re already looking after Jackson. Poor boy. But do you think you could both come back to the house for a bit after this? You don’t have to stay long; it would just be nice to have some company.’

Holly doesn’t hesitate. ‘Of course we will. Just come and grab me when you’re ready to leave. Did you drive here?’

‘No, I got a cab. Not that I’m drinking or anything. I just didn’t want to drive home alone afterwards.’

‘Then I’ll drive you home,’ she says.

Back at the house, Holly fusses around her, insisting she sit down and rest while she makes some food. There was food at the wake, but Sienna couldn’t touch it.

‘I really don’t need to rest,’ she says, standing up and rearranging the cushions on the sofa. ‘I’m not ill.’

Holly laughs. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m not good at this kind of thing. I can just about manage to look after my son, so haven’t a clue how to help other people.’

Sienna doesn’t believe this, but she appreciates what Holly is doing. ‘I can make up some sandwiches,’ she says. It’s her house, so the least she can do is provide food for her guests.

‘Actually, I could really go for a sandwich. And Jackson never says no to a plain cheese one.’ She points to her son, who’s sitting cross-legged on the floor with his iPad resting on his knees. ‘That okay with you, Jax?’

‘Thanks, Sienna,’ he says. It’s still strange for her to hear him address her by name when all she used to get was mumbles.

They leave Jackson to it and go to the kitchen, both of them preparing the food, even though Sienna has said she’d do it.

‘I know you think I’m helping you,’ Holly says, ‘but actually it’s the other way around. You see, I’m so torn up with guilt over the way I left Greg and, by helping you, I think I’m trying to make up for it. Does that make sense?’

‘It does. So you being here is good for both of us, then.’

Holly smiles. ‘The police will find who did that to him,’ she says.

Sienna shudders. She has tried to push from her mind the details of Greg’s death. His murder. But now the image of someone smashing his skull from behind forces its way into her head and lodges there. She can’t shake it. And the worst thing of all is that Greg wouldn’t have seen it coming. This, above all else, is what she struggles to deal with.

‘I keep telling myself that,’ Sienna says. She doesn’t add that she won’t be able to breathe until they do. She doesn’t expect it will eradicate her pain, but it will be something.