They sat in the sitting room, drinking coffee, except Liv, who opened a bottle of champagne and walked in and out with her glass, on the phone, busy making plans. Her voice rang out from room to room.

In the afternoon, Alex’s friend Will came over for band practice. There was something of Alex about him. They’d been at school together, and both loved art and music, and had been rebels. He brought his daughter, Nell, who was four. She sat on one of the stools at the island unit and watched from a distance as he tuned his guitar. Like his father, he worked at Merrill Lynch now. The other guys in the band walked about the garden with Liv, deciding where the stage should go. Across the room, Dan was making a sandwich with Blessica, pretending he couldn’t find the fridge behind the spring-loaded cupboard doors. She was giggling. Will was sitting on the leather sofa near the garden, and Bea was holding his iPad, where he could see the tuning app.

‘Your daughter’s lovely,’ she said.

‘Thanks,’ said Will. ‘You have kids? I guess you’re way younger than us.’

‘Not way. But not yet.’

‘Daddy! Play,’ said Nell, swinging her feet.

He played a Beatles song, ‘Blackbird’, halfway through, with a few false starts.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked when he stopped. ‘I’m sorry.’

Bea nodded. ‘It’s OK, I cry a lot.’

‘Look, I’m sorry about Alex. It’s just shit. It’s such a shit thing to happen.’

She appreciated his nerve in not letting it be too huge and terrible to name.

‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘Do the police know anything yet?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Your mum is being amazing. I don’t know how she does it.’

He paused for her to agree, but she didn’t.

‘She’s given me a whole specific set list,’ said Will. ‘“Blackbird” we always play, but most Beatles songs not so much. She’s got loads of those, and loads of Oasis, but I’m pretty sure Alex hated everything after “Definitely Maybe” – pretended to, anyway. We thought we were so cool.’

‘You were,’ Bea smiled. ‘So cool. Just play what you want to play. You were his friend.’

‘She’s his mother. They were so close, weren’t they?’

When she didn’t answer he said, ‘She was always the mother all the guys – I mean,’ he corrected himself, ‘she was so good-looking, we were all totally in awe of her.’

Bea made some sound, she didn’t know, something non-committal.

‘It’s got to be tough for a girl to have a mum like that,’ he said. ‘She looked about fifteen.’

‘Daddy!’ shouted Nell from her stool. ‘I’m bored.’

Gratefully, Bea left him, and went over to her. ‘Bored?’ she said. ‘Oh no, that’s awful!’

Nell giggled. ‘Please may you spin me?’ she said.