Martin Nash was buried two days later. He had left no family and on Izzy’s insistence, his ex-boyfriend had not been told the circumstances of his death. Joe hadn’t turned up to the funeral and Izzy couldn’t say she blamed him. She nearly hadn’t come herself but to her surprise, had found Lucas Pugh on her doorstep dressed in an immaculate black suit and tie two hours beforehand. Alone at the graveside, she closed her eyes for a moment and, surprising herself as she did so, grabbed Lucas Pugh’s hand and held it tightly. She didn’t open her eyes again until they’d turned and were walking away.

‘How are you doing?’

She looked at him and smiled at the simple banality of the question. ‘Awful, you?’

‘I managed to sleep last night. Didn’t want to but I did.’

She nodded. ‘Lucas, what’s your happiest memory?’

‘My ninth birthday.’

‘Tell me about it.’

Behind them, balanced on top of Martin Nash’s tombstone, Izzy’s Sun Drop glittered in the sun. It was empty.

.