‘Thanks, Dad,’ Charlie said, rubbing his eyes wearily with his free hand.

‘What for?’ the old man barked, not unkindly. ‘I probably haven’t helped much. But I thought it was worth reminding you of the rules of the game. At least as I see them.’

‘You’ve helped more than you know,’ Charlie said. ‘Bye, Dad.’

‘Don’t leave it so long between calls next time,’ John Thorpe said, by way of parting. ‘And come and see your mother soon. She misses you.’

‘I will. I miss you both, too.’

Charlie pressed the end-call button and swiftly pocketed his phone before the rain started bucketing down. Turning up his jacket collar, he headed up the road to his flat. As he drew a deep breath to try to steady his thoughts, he was struck, like a bolt from the blue, of how precious every breath Harry Jamieson took was, not just to him, but to his family, who were campaigning so hard on his behalf. And in that moment, when the cool night air filled his lungs, he knew exactly what he needed to do. Checking the train times app on his phone, he looked to what time the earliest train back to Willowbury was in the morning.

47

‘Thanks for stepping in at such short notice, Chelsea,’ Holly said on Saturday morning as she checked over the things she’d packed into her backpack. She was about to go somewhere a bit unusual for a deep-vision meditation session and was feeling more than a little nervous about it. If she forgot to take anything with her now, she wouldn’t just be able to nip back into the shop and get it, so she had to make sure she had enough supplies.

Although, really, since the session was to be held in the outdoors anyway, she actually needed fewer things, she figured. A few bottles of water for after the session, her phone in case anything came up urgently at ComIncense, or with Harry, and a towel for her hair, since the mist that had been descending all morning had finally turned into rain, and that was about it.

‘No worries,’ Chelsea replied. ‘Rather you than me, up there on a day like this.’ She peered out of the front window of the shop, where she’d been adjusting the display, and wrinkled her nose. ‘I guess I’m what you might call a fair-weather meditator!’

‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ Holly smiled. ‘There’s something immediate about deep vision in the rain. You should try it sometime.’

‘I don’t fancy trying to meditate when I’m soaked through to my underwear!’ Chelsea shuddered. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll hold the fort here while you and your mad punters do.’

‘I’ll see you a bit later,’ Holly said. ‘If anything comes up, call me.’

‘I will.’