Claire was at James' parents' house in Winscombea small village outside Weston-super-Mare. They were all sitting in the lounge nursing cups of tea, talking about James. Every sentence seemed to have an air of hope to it, as if to discuss the worst was going to make it true. Claire looked at the two of them, sat close together on the chunky, cream sofa. They seemed to have aged overnight. John Lockedon had once been in the army. He was usually very quiet but always well-presented. ...