“It’s a requirement,” she said. “You could always nominate another family member. A brother or a parent.”

“No,” I said immediately. The idea was impossible. When Greg had married me, he had become mine. I wasn’t going to let his family reclaim him. “I’ll do it. Should I do it today?”

“If you can.”

“Where is he?”

I heard a paper rustle.

“He is in the mortuary of the King George V hospital. Do you know it? Is there someone who can take you?”

I PHONED GWEN and she said she would drive me to the hospital, even though I knew it meant she would have to phone in sick. I realized I was still in the clothes I had put on the previous morning. Greg had seen me put them on. Maybe he hadn’t actually seen it. He was too used to me and too busy in the morning to sit and watch me but he had been bustling around when I was getting dressed. I took them all off, another bit of my life with Greg gone, and I stood in the shower under the very hot water, my head lifted into the jet and my eyes closed. I turned the water up hotter still as if it could scorch away what I was feeling. I dressed quickly, glanced in the mirror and saw that I was entirely in black. I took off my sweater and replaced it with a rust-colored one. Somber, but not like a Mediterranean widow.