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Chapters (86)
  1. Title Page
  2. CONTENTS
  3. Love
  4. Before
  5. One
  6. ONE
  7. Two
  8. TWO
  9. Three
  10. THREE
  11. Four
  12. FOUR
  13. Five
  14. FIVE
  15. Six
  16. SIX
  17. Seven
  18. SEVEN
  19. Eight
  20. EIGHT
  21. Nine
  22. NINE
  23. Ten
  24. TEN
  25. Eleven
  26. ELEVEN
  27. After
  28. One
  29. ONE
  30. Two
  31. TWO
  32. Three
  33. THREE
  34. Four
  35. FOUR
  36. Five
  37. FIVE
  38. Six
  39. SIX
  40. Seven
  41. SEVEN
  42. Eight
  43. EIGHT
  44. Nine
  45. NINE
  46. Ten
  47. TEN
  48. Eleven
  49. ELEVEN
  50. Twelve
  51. TWELVE
  52. Thirteen
  53. THIRTEEN
  54. Fourteen
  55. FOURTEEN
  56. Fifteen
  57. FIFTEEN
  58. Sixteen
  59. SIXTEEN
  60. Seventeen
  61. SEVENTEEN
  62. Eighteen
  63. EIGHTEEN
  64. Nineteen
  65. NINETEEN
  66. Twenty
  67. TWENTY
  68. Twenty-One
  69. TWENTY-ONE
  70. Twenty-Two
  71. TWENTY-TWO
  72. Twenty-Three
  73. TWENTY-THREE
  74. Twenty-Four
  75. TWENTY-FOUR
  76. Twenty-Five
  77. TWENTY-FIVE
  78. Twenty-Six
  79. TWENTY-SIX
  80. Twenty-Seven
  81. TWENTY-SEVEN
  82. Twenty-Eight
  83. TWENTY-EIGHT
  84. Eleven Months Later
  85. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  86. Copyright

When we get there, I brace myself, but the garden is empty. It would be impossible to miss her. The New Steine is much smaller than the Old Steine with its neatly kept lawn, fountain and the War Memorial which Rosh had to write an essay about for school last year. Here the garden is more modest, just a long strip of grass with the sea at one end and a weird sculpture at the other. Some of the lights in the B&Bs on either side are on, the guests either just getting in or just getting up to catch an early flight, too concerned with making sure they’ve packed everything and have their passport to notice what Dev and I are here to do.

I look around for her – Kitty Lawrence – but the garden is empty except for a small dark-blue tent that is pitched in the top right-hand corner of the lawn, by the sculpture. It takes me a moment longer than it should to realise that’s where she is, but by the time I do, Dev is already walking towards it.

‘Stay here,’ she warns when I follow. Not that she needs to. I have no idea what’s happening in that tent and I have no intention of finding out as I watch Dev crouch down and unzip the front of it. She peels it open and when nothing happens, when no one screams or cries or comes flying out with a needle hanging out of their arm, I can’t help but lean down to peer inside.

There she is – Kitty Lawrence, I assume – sitting cross-legged, clutching a white fleece blanket. Her fingernails are dirty, but the rest of her is in pretty good shape. Her long dark hair looks clean enough and is parted in the middle, falling on either side of a small face that is almost the same colour as the blanket she’s holding and I look away as I wonder how she ended up here, in this tent, all by herself.

That’s when I see it, the body lying next to her, curled up in the foetal position, and for a moment I think that it’s someone else, until Kitty points to it and says, ‘That’s me.’

Dev nods.

‘How is that me?’

‘Come with me, Kitty.’ Dev holds out her hand to her.

When Kitty gets out into the cold, she sways a little and when she steadies herself, she looks up at the sky. It’s pure black and there’s something about the way she just stands there, looking up, that makes me wonder if she knows.

If she knows that she’s dead.