The liaison officer said this as if it was a consolation. It wasn’t. Six months. ‘Oh my goodness, it’s going to be so stressful to have to wait that long before I’m able to lay poor Peter to rest.’ She couldn’t get a damn death certificate until after the inquest. Without it, she couldn’t apply for probate. Couldn’t get access to the money. Couldn’t start the rest of her life.

Bennet shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. Sometimes, if the cause of death is clear—’

‘Isn’t it?’ Allison’s voice was sharp. She saw Bennet’s eyebrows rise in surprise and lifted her hand over her face, hiding behind them for a few seconds to re-establish control. She dragged them down her face. ‘I’m sorry. It’s all so hard.’

‘Of course,’ Bennet said, her voice carefully controlled. ‘Unfortunately, and I know this is hard, but the police have to investigate whether your husband fell, was pushed—’

‘Or he jumped, is that what they think?’ Allison had told them – had insisted – Peter had no reason to jump. No reason at all.

‘They don’t think anything; they’re simply doing their job.’

Allison couldn’t bring herself to speak.

‘It simply means a bit of a delay, Mrs Fellowes.’

It was an effort to sound unconcerned. ‘So how long are we talking about?’

‘They have various CCTV footage to look through, witness statements to collate, the train driver’s testimony to consider. It all takes time. Only when this is done will the inquest take place.’

Perhaps she should have expected this, but she hadn’t. Allison struggled to keep her expression neutral. She guessed she was failing, and anger was leaking around the edges of her mask when she saw Bennet’s eyes narrowing slightly. A sob seemed in order. She managed a creditable one, relieved to see a softening in the liaison officer’s taut expression. Holding her hand clasped to her mouth for a few seconds, Allison shook her head and took it away. ‘I’m sorry. It’s all so impossibly hard. The funeral is going to be such a difficult time; I’m not sure I can bear to wait for so long, thinking about it every day.’

‘Of course. The funeral is all part of the grieving process. It’s important to get through these steps as soon as you are able, really.’

Allison wondered if Bennet attended the same psychology courses as Portia. Probably read the same books. Or – she hoped her sneer wasn’t obvious – a cheat’s summary of each. ‘Yes, you’re right, of course you are. Thank you for understanding, that’s it exactly.’ She was grovelling but it did the trick, the liaison officer’s expression softening further.