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was equally welcome. Megan stood back, letting them bond. Her offer to make some coffee enabled them to swerve any awkwardness in terms of greetings. Now they were past the initial shock of Jonathan’s death, physical contact with Megan was once again something to be avoided.

‘How are you holding up, Chloe?’ Angus hauled a selection of bags and coats into the hall – they had brought a lot with them.

‘Not bad, though it’s good to have you here. It’s been a really odd week.’

‘Only to be expected, I suppose.’ He started sorting through their mound of stuff.

‘Things no better?’ Liv took off her coat and hung it up, neatly.

‘No. Not really.’ Liv and Chloe glanced simultaneously towards the kitchen, where the subject of their frustration was quietly, and helpfully, preparing drinks for the new arrivals.

Armed with their overnight bags, and immune, or indifferent, to the undercurrents of the conversation, Angus asked, ‘Which room?’

‘Megan has put you in the rooms at the back, I think.’

Angus nodded his thanks and headed upstairs.

Instinctively the sisters drew closer together. Chloe dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘We’ve been avoiding each other most of the time. She keeps going out. I don’t know where. She never tells me what’s she’s doing. And, like I said, whenever I ask her anything she’s really evasive.’ Chloe could tell by Liv’s expression that the rigour of her attempts to get information from Megan were being doubted, and judged. That was the problem with Liv; her relentless efficiency didn’t leave any space for other people’s efforts, especially if those efforts failed. Chloe tried to defend herself. It was okay for Liv to fire off endless emails and texts about what she wanted sorting, but it wasn’t as straightforward as that. Dealing with Megan necessitated navigating a minefield of sensitivities, past and present. ‘She’s not exactly been in the mood for doing anything to help us.’ Then, for good measure, Chloe added, ‘I can’t say I blame her.’

‘Have you at least got the files I asked for?’

‘No.’ Chloe’s resentment at Liv’s irritated tone grew. ‘I tried. She said they’re on the bookcase in Dad’s room.’ She didn’t add that she’d been too anxious to go in and fetch them herself. It was silly, she knew that, but the thought of opening the door and stepping inside the room actually frightened her. She knew her sister would have no patience with such ‘hysteria’.

Liv glanced across the hall at the closed door. ‘I’ll get them tonight, after we’ve eaten.’

Chloe was offended and, at the same time, relieved to have the responsibility taken away from her. Let Liv wade in. That’s what she did best.

The boys reappeared in the hall, skidding across the polished floor in their socks. Liv sent them upstairs to bother their dad. The thunder of their feet was shockingly loud after the past week of monastic quiet. Liv rolled her shoulders and swung her arms back and forth, presumably to loosen the stiffness from driving. The stretching seemed to improve her mood. She was more conciliatory when she next spoke. ‘If it makes you feel any better, she’s been equally unforthcoming with me. I must have asked her three times for the passcodes for Dad’s bank accounts, but she’s still not sent them to me.’

Chloe briefly, and irrelevantly, had a mental image of the inside of Liv’s brain as one huge spreadsheet, with endless columns of tasks and deadlines.

‘And what about the plans for the funeral?’ Liv’s neck made a cracking noise as she circled her head left to right.

Chloe’s column obviously had a lot of ‘pending’ categories. She wished her nephews were back downstairs – anything to deflect Liv from her lengthy inventory of tasks. ‘The brochures arrived.’ They had.

‘And?’

‘I looked at them.’

‘And?’ Liv waited, but Chloe had nothing more to add. ‘So have you chased up the funeral directors about possible dates for the crematorium?’

‘Not yet.’

At that, Liv did give vent to her frustration. ‘Aw, come on, Chloe! You’re here – you’ve got far more time than I have. I’ve spent most of the week speaking to the solicitor, chasing the pension company and I’ve been at work. Surely you could have got something sorted on the funeral. Time’s ticking. We can’t leave him indefinitely at the undertaker’s.’

Chloe couldn’t bear to think about it. She turned away and walked into the lounge, forcing Liv to follow her. She pulled the door closed. ‘It’s not that simple.’ Liv looked at her expectantly. Chloe pushed down her qualms about blaming Megan for her avoidance of the issue. ‘I don’t think Megan’s ready to start talking about it yet.’

‘It’s been nearly a fortnight. Besides, we need to get some dates booked in or we’ll start running into the Christmas period, and then it’ll be nigh-on impossible to get a slot.’

Chloe felt hot, and cold. ‘I know. But… well, wait and see what you think. I’m not sure about her mental state at the moment.’

Liv’s body language did not exude sympathy. ‘So you’re saying that nothing’s been done?’

‘Not as such.’

Liv reached for the door handle, and Chloe knew that Liv would sweep in and start calling the shots. The thought was enough to galvanise her to speak.

‘It’s not just Megan. Liv, what about what Dad wanted?’

‘Meaning?’

‘Well, should we ignore what he said in his will? He was quite clear about not wanting to be… laid to rest until we’ve sorted everything out.’

For a split second Liv looked uncomfortable, but she didn’t let it show in her voice. ‘As the solicitor said, the Statement of Wishes isn’t legally enforceable. And besides, I’m hoping we’ll have agreed what we’re going to do by the end of this weekend – so there’s no reason to hold off planning the funeral.’ Her unshakeable confidence was hard to argue with. Course of action decreed, Liv opened the door and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Chloe let her go, feeling a shiver of sympathy for Megan.

Chapter 10

TO EVERYONE’S surprise, Noah arrived while they were

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