England is well known for its gloomy weather, and January can be dreary even for the English. When Molly finds that the one sunny day they'll have all week is the day of her mum's funeral, she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. (I should tell her about this next time… oh. Right.)
The service is lovely; Mum left detailed instructions, and for once Molly's grateful for her mother's take-charge attitude. At the church, Molly sits between Tim and Dad, both men staring stoically ahead. Molly weeps into her handkerchief; now that most of her tasks are complete, the weight of everything that went unsaid drags her under.
After the burial, Molly accepts condolences from her mother's friends and then, seeing neither Tim nor Dad, goes to look for them. She finds the two men standing under a willow tree – Mum's favourite – and speaking softly to each other. Molly hangs back; she can't hear what they're saying, but she suspects that's for the best. She watches as they tentatively embrace, and then quickly back off. The pathologist smiles wanly, then rearranges her expression and returns to the crowd of mourners.
Molly's greatest fear is that Dad and Tim won't be this good to each other again.