Cally felt Logan stiffen beside her. Following his gaze, she saw a group of young men approaching, their faces grave.
'Alastair's friends from university. I should go and say hello.'
Cally watched as Logan moved to meet the group, accepting their condolences with nods and thanks. Even from a distance, she could see the effort it was costing him to maintain his composure. She turned to see Doreen in a black dress and hat coming out of the main door of the house.
Doreen raised her eyebrows. ‘Our Cally.’
‘Hi. Do you need any help with anything?’
‘No, we’re all set. I’ve been making tea and coffee and croissants all morning.’
‘How was it last night?’
Doreen lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Morethan dreadful. Honestly, Cally, I’ve seen some bad times, but it washorrendous. Cecilia had to, well, err, she had to be put to bed with, you know, a pill before I even left, and Anne wasn’t much better.’
Cally swore. ‘What a sorry old state of affairs.’
‘I know. At least you are here now. Logan needs all the support he can get. He’s certainly not going to get it from anyone else.' Doreen tutted and shook her head.
Cally nodded, her eyes still on Logan. 'I just wish there was more I could do.'
Doreen patted her arm gently. 'I’ve had the same thought many times these past few weeks. It's going to be a difficult day.'
Logan strolled back in their direction. ‘Morning, Doreen.’
‘Logan. I hope you’ve had something to eat. I didn’t see you in the kitchen earlier.’
Logan shook his head. ‘Couldn’t stomach it.’
Cally interrupted. ‘Let’s go and get a coffee.’ She checked the time on her phone. ‘We’ve got plenty of time before the cars arrive, and we leave for the church.’
Doreen gave Logan a nudge on his elbow. ‘Do as she says. The last thing we need is you collapsing. Go and have a coffee. Do you want to come into the kitchen, and I’ll make you one?’
‘Nope. We’ll pop back to the cottage.’
Inside the cottage, Cally was pleased to see it wasn’t in a terrible mess. She pulled a coffee plunger out of a cupboard, flicked the kettle on, poured coffee beans into the top of a coffee grinder, and pushed the button on top. Logan sat down and sighed. He swore. ‘I keep saying the same thing over and over again: I can’t believe it.’
Cally shook her head as she poured ground coffee into the bottom of the plunger. ‘I know. I don’t know what to say for the best. Nothing anyone can say will help you.’
‘I’m not looking forward to seeing the coffin.’
‘You wouldn't be.’
‘My mum and Cici were awful last night.’
Cally felt bad that she’d been pleased to keep away. ‘Yes, Doreen said. You might feel a bit better after today, in a way. I know it doesn’t feel like that, but, you, well, you get this bit out of the way, as it were. Not in a horrible way.’
Logan sighed. ‘I hope so. I can’t feel much worse. Do you know what? I could down a bottle of wine to get me through this.’
‘Not happening.’
‘I know.’ Logan attempted a joke. ‘A shot in my espresso?’
Cally smiled. ‘Sorry, not a good idea.’
‘Can I just say?’
‘What?’
