"Hammond could have treated you with more courtesy."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"I could sing a duet of hate with you – and I will if it will make you feel better. But legally – well, I don't know. I'll give you all the back-up I can."

If she couldn't show more enthusiasm for the case, he thought, then she might as well unfurl her banner on the other side. That she would do her best he had no doubt. She was basically honest and highly qualified. No-one else, he supposed, would show any enthusiasm either. The emotional involvement was his. He couldn't expect anyone else to share it.

She took him to a small Austrian restaurant. The whole set-up was very elegant and extremely expensive. Jenny's tablecloth, like her skirt, had a loose hem. Her kitchen was shabby and comfortable and the sun shone in it.

Thirza, disconcertingly, cut across his thoughts. "These days – have you anyone?"

He hedged. "I'm not living with anyone."

"Neither am I. Where permanent relationships are concerned, I'm disaster-prone. I find the single state extremely peaceful." She held her wineglass up to the light. "Have you noticed the sediment in this? Should we send it back, do you think?"

"Are you changing the subject – or do you seriously want me to send it back?"

She put the glass down and smiled. "It's hardly worth the bother. I'm changing the subject. You seemed embarrassed when I asked you that question just now. Will you be staying in London tonight?"

"No, I hadn't planned to. I shall be using this afternoon to call in at the main office. I walked out of the Bombay office with no notice whatsoever. They'll cope, of course, but they'll need to be informed of what's going on and when I'm likely to be going back."

"And when will that be?"

"The funeral will be some time next week."

"If my being with you at the funeral will help…?"

"It's kind of you." It was neither an acceptance nor a rejection.

"How did you cope on David's holidays?"

"He travelled with me most of the time And I've kept a small flat here in London Most of his clothes and belongings are there They'll need to be packed "

She suggested that they might meet early that evening m his flat and pack them away together After the funeral, she knew, would be soon enough, but if she were to help him at the inquest then a deeper knowledge of him and events was necessary and this was one way of gaming that knowledge They would have an hour or so together Seeing David's possessions would loosen him up emotionally If she were to get anywhere she needed a gut response It wasn't just a case of representing him at the inquest, it was a case of finding out how best to ease him through it He arrived at the flat in Marylebone half an hour before her It was on the second floor of a Victorian house and David's first reaction to it hadn't been enthusiastic He had been used to a garden and a green outlook Once he had a permanent base, he had told David, he would get a house for the two of them again In the meantime this had to do David had asked how long was temporary and he had answered a year or two A year or two, David had said, was survivable He could put up with most things – even this – for a year or two The memory of the conversation was surprisingly clear Since Ruth's death David had done a great deal of putting-up The flat The school And always the promise of a future that never happened It was bitterly ironical that a permanent appointment to the Pans office had been offered him that afternoon He had surprised Thomson by asking for time to think about it Yes, he told Thomson, he knew he had put in several applications for a non-travelling job – and yes, he liked Pans But he wanted time to think Thomson had"given him a week He hadn't added "Until after the funeral," but it had been implicit in his tone of voice "By then." the look in his eyes had said, "you'll be rational enough to pluck the plum that's offered you " The job earned a substantial rise m salary Had it been offered him as short a time as a few months ago he and David would have been settled into a comfortable environment by now and David would have been attending a local lycee He would have been alive The flat had a stale empty smell and was veneered over with dust He went into all the rooms and opened the windows David's bedroom was festooned with model aeroplanes Three balsa-wood Spitfires suspended from the ceiling with white thread caught the breeze from the open window and became entangled A fragile, red-painted propeller tore off the framework and spiralled to the floor. He bent and picked it up They had spent a wet Sunday making this one David had had glue on his hands and had struck a match to melt some sealing wax The glue had ignited and the palm of his hand had been burnt It had taken a couple of weeks to heal During the couple of weeks the finer, more precise areas of model-making had been taken over by him under David's direction The Messerschmitt on the chest-of-drawers had been almost entirely his own work David had got bored in the middle of it and had gone off to read a book "Not bad for a beginner," had been his comment when he saw it finished His suppressed grin had sparked up in his eyes as if laughter were light suddenly blazing He wished that Thirza wasn't coming This was a private place His and David's But when she came he accepted her intrusion and buttressed himself behind a polite seemingly casual facade He took the large pigskin suitcase from her and put it on David's bed "It's his winter clothes, in the chest-of-drawers and wardrobe The rest of his stuff is at the school " He couldn't bear to watch her and told her he was going to buy an evening paper "I'll be back soon "

He gave her an hour.

When he returned, the suitcase was standing in the hallway, locked and strapped. He repressed an urge to touch it. She called out to him from the sitting room. "I've a couple of drinks poured. Bourbon. You don't seem to have anything else."

He thought of Jenny's whisky.

He wished Jenny had packed the suitcase. Hers wouldn't look like this. It would be battered and bulging and everything in it would have been put away with love.

"Thanks. I'll be with you in a minute." He went into the bedroom and saw with irrational relief that the aeroplanes were still there. She followed him. "You'll need a large cardboard box for those. I didn't think of bringing one."

"I'll see to it."

She moved past him, slim and elegant in the white trouser suit she had changed into, and opened a bedside cupboard. "There's a microscope here. It looks a good one. Would you like me to sell it for you?"

"For Christ's sake!"

She couldn't understand why that should penetrate his armour when nothing else seemed to. It was a pity he had gone out while she had done the packing. She had imagined him sitting on the bed talking to her while she had done it.

She said equably, "The clothes will go to a children's charity. They could use the money from the microscope, too, if you agree."

He agreed. He wished she would stop talking about it.

"And there's a stamp collection. I don't know if that's valuable or not?"

"Not."

"The microscope – what was he going in for? Your line?"

"Scientific research – spelt with a u." And nobody knew what line.

He suggested they should have the drink. Dinner hadn't been planned, but under the circumstances it would be churlish not to invite her. She had been kind. She was representing him at the inquest. She was a friend of longstanding.

The thought flashed into his mind that he had known Jenny for two days.

Time was a clown that stood on its head and made rude gestures. He was offered the Paris posting – now. David had lived twelve years. Jenny's warm familiar flesh had been warm and familiar for a few hours only.

He needed her.

In the middle of his shock and grief he needed her.