Mike’s hand reaches up, rubbing the fabric of a well-loved jumper between his fingers before bowing his head and letting it rest on the clothes before him.

I look over at Zaza and see her pained expression mirroring my own.

We give him time. There’s no rush today, nowhere else we need to be, although there are a million places we wish we all were.

In time we hear Mike take a deep breath, and although it catches in his throat with a judder we hear the intent behind it. He’s ready, therefore we are too.

‘Do we go for one end and work our way across?’ he asks.

‘We could Marie Kondo it?’ Zaza says, putting the ease back into her voice. ‘Get it all out and on the bed before carefully deciding what to do with it all. That way we won’t leave you with a half-finished job. You know, make sure we get it done.’

‘Are you still pretending to be Boris?’ Mike asks, making us laugh before we each look back to the wardrobe.

‘Have you thought about where it’s going to go?’ I ask.

‘Some stays with me – in case I ever fancy cross dressing, some goes to you two – whatever you want, and then the rest to the charity shop. Or dump.’ The last word gets stuck in his throat but he carries on. I pretend not to notice.

‘Right,’ I nod, busying myself with finding a place on the bedside table to place my mug.

‘We’ll move it on to the bed,’ says Zaza decisively, jumping into action.

‘Can I just say,’ I stop her, ‘you’re really channelling your inner Anneka Rice right now with that get-up.’

Zaza laughs while looking down at her clothes. ‘She’s my spirit animal today, for sure,’ she grins, pulling on her jumpsuit and delivering a pout. ‘Mike, you can stay by the bed and start looking through the different pieces once they’re out. You can start by sorting it into piles.’

‘Got it,’ he nods, rubbing his hands together and getting himself ready for whatever garments we send his way.

We’ve slipped into functional. I can’t be the only one who feels like the only way to get through this is to compartmentalize and separate the love for and loss of Pia with this action of packing her up and moving her out of her home.