‘I’ll go and find someone. Or should we just look for this room? I don’t know.’

Jeff did not move.

‘What should we do?’

‘Mr and Mrs Tonks, will you follow me? So sorry.’

They did not know how to sit as Mr and Mrs Tonks, not having spoken to one another in any civil way, for two years. Together and not together. They were both.

In the end, they sat with one chair separating them. The chairs were orange and bright blue. There was a pot plant that needed water. Water was in a dispenser. Water to drink. Greta wanted to give some to the wilting plant but did not dare and anyway could not move. She felt desperately sorry for the plant. The plant was suffering.

Life went on noisily in the corridor outside. Olivia was alive. She had not looked alive at any point but they had told her that she was alive.

‘What does it mean? Alive?’

Jeff stared at her.

Someone opened the door but did not come into the room, backed away.

‘What were you doing? When I rang you, no, I didn’t ring you, it was Kevin who rang. What were you doing?’

He stared at her again. Greta wondered if her voice was not emerging from her as a voice, as if she knew what she wanted to say and had said it, but in some way had not.

‘When I told you. What were you doing?’

‘Holding Noah. Or Isaac. I don’t remember.’

‘I heard crying.’

‘Yes.’

‘Do they cry a lot? Olivia never cried.’

‘She cried.’

‘Not very much.’

‘Was there anything at all, Greta, something written down or a message on the answering machine? She must have left something. Did you even look?’

Now Greta stared at him.

‘Or her phone. Did you check her phone?’

She was going round the house in her head because she hadn’t done that, she had stood waiting, she had screamed, she had spoken to him when Kevin Astley had rung for her, but she hadn’t gone into every room or looked everywhere. She should have done that and she hadn’t.

‘I didn’t see it.’

‘On yours then. She left a message on your phone.’

‘Did she?’

‘Jesus, I am asking you, Greta.’

She picked up her bag and felt around in it for her phone and found it and it was switched off.

‘Christ, Greta.’

She dropped her bag back on the floor.

‘What will they do? They tried to bring her round, but maybe they didn’t have the equipment, you know, the machinery or all of that, of course they didn’t, so they’re trying now, here, and they can make it happen now. How long will it take?’

A single great explosive sob burst out of him. Then nothing. His head was bent, hands hanging between his knees.

‘It’s not your fault,’ she said.

He did not look up.