19
The sceptics’ club hadn’t met since Paul’s mother’s death. Today was the last Friday morning Rob had free, and he’d rung Paul to ask if they could finish Luke this morning.
Paul hadn’t had time to read the final chapters again, but he’d read them out loud to his mother while he was at the hospital. It would have to do.
“Sorry to hear about your mother,” Rob said as Paul sat down in his usual spot.
Paul gave a tight nod. “Thanks.”
“I remember how much sorting there was to do after my mother’s death,” Rob said, stirring his coffee.
“The sorting wasn’t too bad, but the whole thing was rather a shock. I had no idea my mother had any heart problems. It made me realise there was so much I didn’t know about her.”
And it was a reminder, if he needed such a thing in his job, that life was
