Ten o’clock, Thursday morning. Lina parked the car in the driveway of 2 Essex Street. Pat gazed at the dwelling and wondered what it would be like living in the same house for fifty years or more. He and Pam had occupied three houses over the course of their twenty five years together, and he’d sold the last one and moved into a two-bedroom apartment shortly after her death. He’d thrown out all of her stuff, much to his daughter’s displeasure. He couldn’t stand being surrounded by reminders of Pam’s absence.
Sue Marshall was obviously made of different stuff. She’d stayed on in the house she’d shared with her daughter and two husbands who had died. As he walked across the lawn to the front veranda, Pat wondered if she’d kept any of Jane’s belongings, and if he’d have behaved differently i
