I held on to the sobbing woman beside me. Had I heard her correctly? Des was dead–no, I must have misheard it; he was going to finish his filming in a couple of weeks as soon as I found the dormice in the Forest of Dean. It had to be a mistake.

“Now, Sis, tell me carefully what has happened.” I held on to her tightly as I spoke to show my support for her.

“The police came around…it’s awful…” she broke down again and I had to wait for her to control her emotions. “They said he’d crashed his Landrover on the M6, went through a barrier and down an embankment. He died instantly.”

“Oh my God, how awful.” What could I say? The fact that my mouth worked at all was a minor miracle.

“What, am I going to do, Cathy?” She burst into tears again, and this time I joined her. I had very mixed feelings about Des: part of me felt he was a total arsehole, another bit felt he had the capacity to be sympathetic and helpful. He had helped me. Suddenly all that was gone–he was gone–it was unbelievable.

“I can’t believe this, it’s ridiculous. I mean he was so alive a couple of days ago, how can he be dead? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Now you know how I feel,” said Stella, “the police say he had a bunch of roses on the front seat, with my name on them. They found me through my name on his mobile.”

“That must mean they spoke to Tom, because they couldn’t have known you were here.”

“I’m so spaced out by it all, I hadn’t thought how they found me?”

“I’d better call him,” I announced and went off to the hall and picked up the phone. I dialled his number and was relieved when he answered. “Hello, Tom, it’s Cathy.”

“I know who it is, I’d recognise your voice anywhere. What did the police want with Stella?”

“Stella got herself engaged a week ago, to Des. They had a bit of a bust up and Des had to go up north to do some filming. He was killed earlier on today, coming back to see her.”

“Oh bugger!” The line went quiet for a moment, I didn’t want to interrupt him. “Poor Stella, how is she?”

“Very upset, as you might imagine.”

“Are you able to stay with her?”

“Not really, I’m running this summer school all this week.”

“Oh bugger!”

“You’re repeating yourself, Tom.”

“Am I? How about I come up and get her?”

“She might not want to leave here until the funeral.”

“We could get her back to you for that, I’m sure.”

“You can’t stay with her, you’re working as well.”

“I can take a week or so, maybe Simon or her father could help break the monotony of being with an old fart like me.”

“I don’ t think she’s looking for entertainment, rather someone to give her occasional hugs and look after her.”

I could hear him tapping computer keys. “There’s a train to Bristol in half an hour. Expect me when you see me, oh, I’ll stay the night if that’s okay? And I’ll have to bring the dog.”

“That’s all okay.”

“I’ll drive her back in her own car, then she’ll have it with her.”

“Could be a good idea, certainly, she couldn’t drive at the moment.”

“Can you collect me from the station?”

“I don’t really want to leave her….”

“No, of course. I’ve got your number on my mobile, I’ll call if there’s any hitches.”

“You’d better get going, Tom, you don’t have long.”

“Oh damn no, bye.” He put the phone down.

I went back into Stella, who was still sitting hunched over herself, rocking gently. “Tom is coming up, with Kiki.”

“Is he?” she sounded distant and unconcerned.

“Yes, he is. Are you okay for a minute? I’d better let Simon know.”

She nodded but kept rocking, and I began to worry about her mental health, especially given the previous episode. I rang Simon but he was in a meeting, I asked his secretary to tell him it was urgent and very important. Then I called Henry and left a similar message with his secretary.

Some of these people worked late, but then if I was on my own, I’d be checking stuff for tomorrow or doing some more work on the survey. Maybe, we’re all workaholics in the UK?

I made some tea and put some biscuits out and took them into Stella. She had hardly moved except her constant rocking. As I put the tray down, she gave a bloodcurdling scream and collapsed on the floor. I shook from the yell and then the collapse. “Shit, what do I do? Oh, Stella, don’t do this to me.” I was talking to myself as I tried to recall my first aid.

I laid her out on the floor and checked for breathing and pulse. She was still breathing and her heart was banging away like mad. I put her in the recovery position, so she wouldn’t choke or inhale any vomit, and phoned my doctor.

He was just finishing his surgery and was reluctant to visit, however, he finally agreed that the paramedics would only insist she was hospitalised and that might not be the best thing just now. He arrived half an hour later and I thanked him profusely.

Stella hadn’t moved. He examined her and gave her an injection, “This will calm her down and help her to sleep.”

“The last time I came to this house, Mr and Mrs Watts had a son. I take it you’re not his wife?”

“No, my parents are both dead as you know, and I did make peace with my dad before he died. I used to go and visit him in hospital.”

“So are you re registering with me as a patient?”

“If that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, you don’t seem to be ill very often if I recall.”

“Normally, I’m not but a few months ago, some lunatic stuck a knife in my lung as I was out cycling.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t like cyclists, especially women. So he stuck me. I nearly died.”

“I’ll bet. Lungs are not a good place to get a bleed. Right, how strong are you?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Lifting your friend here, up onto the sofa.”

“Go for it,” I said, and we turned her on her back and lifted Stella on to the sofa. “I’ll get a blanket in a minute.”

“Mind if I wash my hands?” asked the doctor and I showed him the cloakroom.

While he was in there I put the kettle back on to make some fresh tea. I offered him a cup and after glancing at his watch, he accepted. He followed me into the kitchen. “What’s in the cage thing?”

“A dormouse.”

“A dormouse, as in Alice in Wonderland?”

“Yes, except I don’t dip her in the tea pot, want to see?”

“Yes, if it’s safe to disturb her.”

“She’s good as gold, and I keep handling her to keep it that way.” I lifted Spike out of the tank and gave her a hazel nut.

The doctor watched in fascination. “I was trying to think why I recognised you, I mean okay, I vaguely knew you as a boy, but that’s years ago. Now seeing you with a dormouse….”

“The clip on youtube?”

“Of course, that was so funny,” he chuckled to himself.

Why do they always remember that bloody bit of film? If I won the Nobel prize, they would still link that film with me, ‘Oh yeah, I know the one you mean, her and the dormouse, she won the Nobel prize…’

“So, the lady in the lounge, her fiancé has been killed. What is she to you?”

“I’m sure this must all sound very confusing, but she is my future sister in law, I’m engaged to her brother.”

“So, let me get my head around this. You used to be a boy, who’s had a sex change–yes?” I nodded and he continued, “and now you’re marrying a bloke? Does that make you gay?”

“I don’t think so. He loves me as his woman, and I believe I love him like a woman. I don’t think I was ever really a male, just my original body, didn’t quite agree with me.”

“Well you’re an exceptionally beautiful transsexual, I’ve got one or two on my books, but none of them are as convincing as you. Well good luck with your future husband, I take it he knows about the erm, you know the operation.”

“Yes, he knows all about it.”

“Oh good, well good luck. If your sister in law needs any further help, give me a shout.”

“You’re too kind, thanks for coming.”

“Well you filled in the Temporary Resident forms, so that’s that. Goodnight.” He left and a few minutes later Tom phoned to say he was on the train and it was on time.