It wasn’t a subtle hint. ‘There’s beer in the fridge.’ The only thing of Peter’s she hadn’t yet thrown out. ‘Bishop’s Finger. It was Peter’s favourite. Would you like one?’ He won’t be needing it any more. Had she said that aloud? Allison looked at Jo in horror, relieved to see her expression hadn’t changed to one of surprise. If it could.

‘That would be very nice, thank you.’

Allison got to her feet. ‘I’ll be a sec.’ She was longer. As she stepped into the hallway, the doorbell rang again. This time it was the delivery. In the kitchen, she put it on the counter with a grunt of annoyance at having her evening spoilt. Her irritation grew when she looked at the rubbish bag slouched by the back door. If Jo saw it, Allison wouldn’t put it past her to ask what it was. It was better to pre-empt that question. She grabbed it, opened the door quietly and slipped outside to dump it in the rubbish bin.

Back in the kitchen, she opened the fridge for the beer. Rather than taking the first suitable glass, Peter’s engraved tankard, a gift he told her he’d been given from a grateful client, she reached behind it for a plain pint glass. It took her a while to locate the bottle opener. When she returned to the living room, Jo was sitting back, relaxed, looking as if she was settled for the evening.

Biting back the sarcastic remark that was dying to jump out, the Sit back and relax, why don’t you – she knew would be wasted on the thick-skinned woman – Allison put the beer and glass down on the coffee table. ‘Here you go.’ She handed Jo the opener before picking up her wine glass and sitting opposite.

‘I never bother with a glass. Saves washing up.’ Jo used the opener to flick off the lid, the accompanying phsst making her smile. ‘One of my favourite sounds.’

Allison watched as the beer was necked greedily. She still had questions. Jo might very well have seen information about Peter’s death on a news feed on the internet, they may even by now have named him, but what they wouldn’t have done is given his address. Allison’s address. And she knew, without a doubt, she’d never given it to this strange new friend. ‘It was kind of you to come, but really you shouldn’t have bothered. The shock is wearing off; now, I must get used to my new future.’

‘It’s no problem. That’s what friends are for.’