‘So,’ Patricia said. ‘I take it this is to do with my hard-hearted bitch of a daughter.’

Lana was on uncertain territory here – how much did Patricia know about the fall-out between herself and Judith?

‘Erm, don’t suppose I could cadge a fag, could I, Mrs H?’

Patricia threw her the packet of Superkings and a lighter that seemed to have taken up residence on the arm of her chair. ‘Help yourself,’ she said.

Lana lit up, her hand shaking as she held the lighter to the cigarette. ‘It’s about George,’ she said, exhaling. ‘I’m afraid he passed away on Friday.’

Lana had expected Patricia’s response to be indifference at best and a sneering laugh at worst; what she hadn’t counted on was for Patricia to cry out, grief-stricken, clutching her hand to her heart, ‘My Georgie, my darling, darling Georgie!’ And, head bent, she wept, still clutching a lit cigarette in her other hand.

Lana didn’t know where to put herself, she was entirely unprepared for this. ‘I know,’ she mumbled, feeling inadequate in her role as bad-news-breaker. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I was expecting it, of course,’ said Patricia through her tears.

‘Right,’ replied Lana.

‘I’m a bit psychic, you see.’

Lana felt an uncontrollable urge to laugh, but was cut short by Patricia’s subsequent snideness. ‘Shame Madam didn’t have the guts to come and tell me in person, mind.’

‘Well, that’s because she’s out there. In Cyprus. Catrin was going to come and see you, but she had to catch a plane, so she asked me to let you know instead.’

Patricia nodded and took a big gulp of whisky. Wiping her eyes and looking firmly at Lana, she said, ‘So. When’s the funeral?’

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. A really good and well-intentioned idea. The chance to mend bridges once and for all. The perfect opportunity to show Judith that life was too short for bearing grudges, that in times of grief we all need a friend. Hadn’t Judith herself said something along the same lines in her email? Of course, Lana was also influenced by Patricia, who’d plied her with more whisky and poured out her heart about George: how she knew they’d had their differences, but that was because of the passion between them. Patricia claimed – very convincingly – that George was the one and only love of her life, which completely contradicted Judith’s story all those years ago, that her parents’ marriage was a loveless one. But aided by more whisky and a second packet of Superkings, Lana decided to give Patricia the benefit of the doubt.

A couple of hours later, Patricia had completely won Lana’s confidence, so much so that Lana began telling her about the loss of her friendship with Judith nearly twenty years previously. ‘I miss her, Trish, that’s the truth,’ she said, growing maudlin with the Scotch.

‘Right then, well, it’s time to take action. You an’ me, we’ve both got hatchets to bury.’