From the moment the sun glared through the curtainless windows, pulling her from sleep with all the subtlety of a road digger, Kate’s thoughts were plagued by memories of the night before. The maelstrom of emotions had left her feeling weak and vulnerable, unable to concentrate on the simplest task. Even her visit with Sam failed to soothe her mind. And when the session was over, and Kate had to once again kiss her son goodbye while all the other parents wrapped their children in warm coats and got them ready for lunch dates or took them home to play, she had felt more than ever that her heart would simply break from the pain of it. Her mother, resplendent in a cashmere coat and impeccably tied scarf, fresh from the salon with the smell of hairspray still clinging to her clothing, had smiled at Kate, and thrust a piece of paper into her shaking hand. ‘The funeral,’ she said, her gaze withering as she took in Kate’s dishevelled appearance. ‘It’s on Monday if you can manage to come.’ ‘Of course I’ll come,’ Kate responded, but her mother was already walking away.
