In the street she tried to calm herself. It wasn’t the end of the world. Her father was all right. But the idea that she might never see her home again! That was too painful to consider. And Piet. Her heart contracted and she attempted to focus on something else, to quell her mounting despair. She wanted to stand in the middle of the road and scream. She tried to imagine what she might do for the summer. She could enrol on a course to improve her photographic technique, expand her portfolio. It would be expensive, but she could get herself a part-time job to pay for it. The cold seeped into her mind, numbing her thoughts and driving her back indoors where she lay in bed, tearful and awake until the grey dawn crept into the sky.

When she spoke to her mother, Betty told her that they would be coming to Ireland as soon as Raphael was strong enough to travel. Sarah left the flat early to take her photographs to the post office. Looking at them once more before she sealed the envelope, she felt they were better than she had thought last night. There was a queue at the post office, but she waited her turn with patience and said one last whispered prayer before dropping the envelope into the box. She spent the remainder of the day in the library at the university, willing her drifting mind to return to the diagrams she had to memorise. Eventually she gave up the struggle and left, anxious to get back to the flat but afraid to open the door, in case there should be more unwelcome news awaiting her. As she put her bag on the table, the phone rang and she was sure that it was her mother again

‘I’ve written you a letter and posted it,’ Camilla said. ‘I know it’s long overdue, and you’ll probably think it’s a coward’s way of dealing with what happened. So I just wanted to ring and tell you again that I’m sorry. Very sorry that I hurt you and Piet, and everyone.’

‘You can’t use other people for your own ends, Camilla, just because things go wrong in your life.’ Sarah could not find it in herself to offer comfort or sympathy.

‘I know that. I really do. I’ll make it up to you somehow. And to Piet. I never seem to arrive at a point where I can handle Mother.’ There was a long silence as Camilla waited for a response that did not come.

‘Look, I’m waiting for a really important phone call, and I need to hang up quickly. Let’s talk about it another time, Camilla.’