For a few blissful moments, Kate woke with her mind empty – then the phone rang. It was just after dawn, and she’d finally started drifting off.

‘Yes?’ she said groggily.

A small voice on the other end of the line whispered, ‘Did I wake you?’

‘Mia?’

‘I know it’s really early,’ she said. ‘But you said I didn’t need a reason to call.’ She sounded unsteady. Kate could tell she’d been crying.

‘You don’t, monkey,’ Kate said, trying to keep her own voice under control. It took an effort not to burst into tears, but at the same time, she was surprised to find herself smiling in the early light. It was good to hear her daughter’s voice. ‘Are you okay?’

There was a beat of silence, then Mia said, ‘I don’t know. I think so. Are you coming home soon?’

‘Really soon,’ she said.

‘Grandma said they were talking about Dad on TV, but she wouldn’t let me watch it and didn’t tell me what they said.’

Kate sat up and wrapped an arm around her knees. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop herself weeping. ‘How is your Grandma?’

‘Weird. She’s okay, but sort of crazy. I was watching YouTube this morning and she asked me what I was watching, so I showed her a video of a monkey riding a pig and she laughed so hard, like, hard enough that her whole body was shaking, like when I pretend to be electrocuted, but then, all of a sudden, she started crying.’

‘People do weird things when they’re sad,’ Kate said. ‘I’m sorry, monkey. I should be there, and I should have been there to tell you about your dad. These past few days, I … I’m not sure I’ve been the best mother.’

‘It’s okay,’ Mia said eventually. ‘People do weird things when they’re sad, right?’

In the brief silence that followed, she imagined Mia perched on the floor beside the bed in the guestroom, smelling fresh and floral, like Pam’s expensive old-lady soaps. Mia was only two hours away, but she seemed much further than that.

‘What did he look like?’ Mia asked.

‘Who?’

‘Dad.’

The question cut through her. She took a breath, then lied. ‘He looked like he was sleeping.’

‘Sometimes at funerals they leave the coffin open so you can see. Will Dad’s be like that?’

‘I don’t know, monkey.’

‘He’ll have to be embalmed,’ Mia said, sounding out each syllable. ‘That’s when they take out all your blood and put chemicals in and make it so your meat doesn’t rot and you don’t smell.’

‘Did Grandma tell you about that?’ Kate asked.