It was with a heavy heart that Robert approached his uncle’s modest bungalow in a little avenue set back off the High Street. It took a long while for anyone to answer and, when at last the door opened, Robert knew the news had got there before him.
His Uncle Edward stood there dabbing his eyes and nursing a glass of whisky. ‘The postman’s been,’ was all he said, trying to mask his grief. ‘Come on in.’
Robert followed his uncle into the small front sitting room and sat facing him, while his shaken relative helped himself to a handful of tissues and mopped his face.
‘Tell me all about it.’
Taking a deep breath, Robert did as he was told, relating everything that had happened, from the moment he had delivered Tom’s order the day before up to the shocked discovery of his old friend’s deat
