The man she had buried was back and knocking. Paula looked through the door visor and blinked. How could this be? She had raised their son and sent him off to university, lived through birthdays and Christmases, weddings and illness, all on her own. Life had moved on without him, and now here he was. Mark’s voice cut through the numbness that was already rising. ‘Open up, love, it’s me. I’m soaked and it’s bloody cold out here.’