The Ravenscar Dynasty. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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      It was the registrar of the hospital, Roberto Del Renzio, who greeted them at the reception desk and led them down a long corridor to the morgue.

      A tall, heavy-set man, he was dressed in a starched white shirt with a stiff wing collar, black tie, black jacket and pin-striped trousers. He had a sombre voice but his expression was bland, and it seemed to Edward that the man was lighthearted in spirit, the kind of person who was ready to laugh if the joke was a good one. But he did not laugh or joke or even say very much as he accompanied them to the far end of the hospital, which he explained, was the north wing.

      The registrar paused when he came to a waiting room, and turning to Dellarosa, he said, in stilted English, ‘Perhaps you would please to be waiting in here.’ He swung his eyes to Edward, and asked, ‘Just the two of you will enter the morgue?’

      ‘I’m not sure,’ Edward answered and looked over at Will. ‘Would you like to come in with us?’

      ‘If that’s all right with you, yes, I would, Ned. I wish to pay my last respects to them all. Do you mind, Neville?’

      ‘So be it,’ Neville murmured, and followed the silent Ned and the registrar, with Will Hasling following immediately behind him.

      Much to Edward’s surprise, the four dead men had already been brought into the morgue in their closed coffins. He had fully expected them to be in the long metal drawers which were banked around the room.

      A moment later, a white-coated doctor joined them, and after being introduced, he proceeded to open the coffins.

      Together Edward and Neville viewed the bodies of their fathers and brothers, staring down at their waxen faces. It was true, they had not been burnt. There wasn’t a mark on them. At least, not on their faces.

      Although they did not know it, both men were thinking the same thing…that these were no longer their loved ones, not now that their souls had left them. All that remained were these frozen carcasses.

      Edward touched his father’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Goodbye, he thought, goodbye. Then he moved on to look at his dearest brother, his lovely Edmund. But the Edmund he had known and loved was not here either. He touched his shoulder, said goodbye to the boy inside his head, and moved on sadly.

      Neville followed suit, silently saying his farewells whilst knowing that what had made these four men so special, so unique, were their spirits…They were merely empty shells how, dead flesh. And Will, slowly moving behind them, felt cold inside and utterly bereft. For he, too, understood death now, and its total finality.

      Within minutes it was all over.

      They collected the relevant papers from the registrar, and took their leave of Dellarosa. They immediately left the hospital, huddled together, hurrying away with speed, heading across the piazza Santa Maria Novella to the hotel.

      And Edward wondered why he had so dreaded this viewing of the bodies all day. He had felt nothing.