Those who had been friends of her husband told her to keep in touch, that they would ring her. The usual things people feel they have to say to widows. She wondered how many of them would keep their promises. Martin Connelly was sitting in the kitchen when Donna walked in. He stopped chewing on a sandwich and smiled at her. She returned the gesture, wondering why the agent was still there. Julie was pushing plates into the dishwasher. Donna wondered briefly whether or not she should mention the incident with Farrell, then decided against it. ‘He had a lot of friends, Donna,’ said Connelly. ‘Did he, Martin?’ she said wearily. Connelly looked puzzled. ‘There were lots of people at the funeral, but I’m not sure how many of them Chris would have counted as friends.’ She sighed. ‘He was popular but I don’t think he had any real friends. He couldn’t give a fuck about anyone.’ ‘Come on, Donna,’ Connelly began. ‘I’m not being nasty,’ she explained.
