The car seating had been carefully planned. Close family in the front limousine. Cousins and uncles and close friends in the cars behind. I froze for a second. I didn’t want to be separated from Miles. But it all happened so quickly, none of us had time to think about what was happening or to answer back. You opened the limo door and pushed me out.

‘Get in,’ you instructed Julie.

You always preferred Julie to me, didn’t you? You still do. Your last conniving game stemmed from this. When you told me Miles was infatuated with her, you wished it was true. You would have liked her as a daughter-in-law, instead of me.

Julie slipped into my place in the car, and I was left standing alone in front of the house. As it turned out, the other limos were all full, so I walked to the church, arriving just in time for a seat at the back. I wept inside for not being able to sit next to Miles and comfort him at his father’s funeral. I had always imagined that we would be able to be there for each other at a time like this.

When I found him again on the way to the burial, he looked ashen. Hs eyes were red and I knew that he had been crying. He held me against him tight.

‘So sorry you had to get out of the car.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I’m not the priority today.’

The wake passed without incident. Tea, sandwiches and small talk. In the evening we watched TV and drank a few glasses of dry sherry, to relax. Caprice, you gave me a brief hug at bedtime and my heart sang. I hoped we’d survived the lows of our relationship and were on the way up.

But that wasn’t how it worked out, was it?

A few months later you decided you felt strong enough to tackle sorting out Rupert’s possessions. The family were called upon to help. The weekend chosen was planned and sorted, firmly planted in our diaries. A week before, I was at home without Miles, playing with the children, when the phone rang.

I picked up. It was you.

‘Hello dear, is Miles there?’ you asked.

The strange elongated deeeaarr. My stomach tightened. ‘He’s not around right now. Can I help?’

‘Can you get him to ring me later?’

‘Yes of course. How are you?’

‘Good. Good. Coping,’ you replied.

‘Well, see you at the weekend. Can I bring anything?’

The line fell silent.

‘Are you still there, Caprice?’

‘Yes.’ More silence. ‘I didn’t know you were coming.’

‘Yes. Yes, of course I’m coming to help.’

‘Help sort out my husband’s possessions?’