‘Good stuff,’ Derek said. Then he talked about figures. Derek had a share in the book – after all, he was Rabbit’s voice after she’d gone. They had agreed all that formally beforehand. Jack didn’t need to know. He really didn’t care. Any monies earned from the book would go to Juliet, and whether it sold one copy or one million, she would want for nothing. It wasn’t about money. It was about bringing Rabbit back to life.

‘Any questions?’ Derek asked after talking for a long time. Jack had zoned out; he was busy picturing the book with a photo of his beautiful daughter on the cover.

‘No.’

‘It’s good news,’ Derek said, and he sounded disappointed by Jack’s despondency.

‘Are you all right, Jack?’

Jack sighed heavily. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever be all right again, Derek.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be, you and that book are the only chink of light in this dark world.’

‘Christ Almighty,’ Derek said, ‘no pressure, then.’

Jack chuckled a little. ‘Molly says I’m a dramatic effer, if you understand me.’

It was Derek’s turn to chuckle. He did understand, except he knew she called him a dramatic fuck rather than effer, but poor Jack, even in his darkest hours, couldn’t bring himself to repeat his wife’s salty language.

‘Do you want to read it, Jack?’ Derek asked.

‘I do but I’m scared.’

‘Understandable.’

‘Will it break my heart, Derek?’ he asked.

‘It will, but it will also raise you up.’

‘She always raised me up, no matter what.’

‘This book won’t let you down,’ Derek said with great confidence. ‘When I’m working on it, it’s as though she’s in the room.’

‘Send it on,’ Jack said.

He received the book in late September, and he read a chapter a day for twenty days. The last four chapters he spaced out, reading half a chapter every two days. He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to stay with her in the moment, and it was such a beautiful and personal read, and so much better than his plain old diaries. Derek had brought his girl back to life even if it was only within the pages of a book. Molly would be an obstacle; they were once so unified but now they seemed to oppose one another when it mattered. Grace’s operation and Rabbit’s book were both major arguments. Molly wanted Rabbit’s memory to remain private.

‘The book wasn’t finished, Jack.’

‘Derek’s finishing it.’

‘And what would he know about our Rabbit?’

‘He worked with her for over twenty years, Molls.’

‘The dead should be left to rest, Jack.’

And she was happy for Grace to mutilate herself. ‘It’s not right, Molly!’ he’d say over and over again. She wasn’t sick. She might never be sick. It’s wrong.