Don’t be ridiculous, he laughed. Where do you come up with these silly ideas?
Silence reigned for the rest of the long journey to attend Aunt Sylvia’s funeral and for half the return trip until they stopped in a small town for a toilet and coffee break.
She saw the bookshop and stepped inside while he ordered coffee.
Back in the car she opened her purchase and pointed to one particular entry. Murder: a group of crows.
He grunted, focussed on the road. Above a passing murder of crows cawed with laughter.