She called a few other names in Mel’s phone, but no one had heard from her. That included her brother Vic who worked at the Fruitmarket Gallery in town. He was close to his sister and said he’d spoken to her yesterday, just small talk about her meeting their folks for lunch. He was shocked when he learned Mel hadn’t turned up.

Hannah posted on the third-year physics undergrad message board, asked if anyone had seen her, tried to keep it low key. She 25checked Mel’s WhatsApp and text messages, nothing that would raise an eyebrow.

She went over this morning’s breakfast in her mind. She hadn’t exactly been focused, thinking about Jim’s cremation. Had Mel seemed a bit off, a little nervous or anxious? Maybe Hannah was superimposing her current frame of mind onto her memories.

She looked at the time on Mel’s phone, almost 2 a.m.

Indy was behind her now in the room. ‘What are you thinking?’

Hannah shook her head, pulled out her own phone and dialled 101. She shared a look with Indy as she waited for them to pick up.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I’d like to report a missing person.’

26

6

JENNY

Jenny felt the edges of the single mattress under her with her hands and was confused for a moment, then she remembered and opened her eyes. She was glad the room had been redecorated since her childhood, it gave her a little distance. It would’ve been too much to be back here as a middle-aged woman in the same bed she lay in as a teenager, thinking of Kurt Cobain and touching herself.

But there were still one or two reminders. The creaky floorboard next to the bed had never been fixed, and the noise it made as she stood up was overpoweringly nostalgic, sending her hurtling back through the decades to when she was a child. On the wall next to the door she could see the dent in the plaster where she’d punched it several times, furious that Susan Wilson was going out with Andy Shepherd, even though Susan knew Jenny liked him. And in the bottom corner of the window her initials were still scraped into the glass, as clear as if they were tattooed on her chest.

Being back here, Christ. Mum needed her but Jenny wasn’t kidding herself this was temporary. At forty-five years old Jenny had nowhere to live, no assets, no job, no marriage. She might as well be here, where better to end your days than in a funeral home?