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We drove in silence to my parents’ house, only making polite conversation with Nan’s friend after picking her up. The atmosphere could have been cut with a knife, but as far as anyone else was concerned that was entirely down to the occasion. Funerals are rarely happy events, even at the best of times.
If truth be told, I’m waiting for Tom to apologise. It won’t automatically make things better, but it’ll at least tell me he recognises what he says and regrets it. Well, at the very least it’ll mean he knows he’s upset me.
When we get to Mum and Dad’s house, the formalities kick in. There are lots of hugs, plenty of it’s-been-years-since-I’ve-seen-yous and even a few my-haven’t-you-growns. Tom works his way around, introducing himself to anyone he hasn’t already met. It always amazes
