Plenty of passers-by gave thought to it, of course; to what it might be like to be that person. I can’t imagine doing that, they said, scandalized and horrified and a little excited, clustered in their little knots on the bridge looking down, or appearing in fire escapes and side-streets to watch the emergency services arrive. Almost all of them had a momentary, guilty relief that it hadn’t been someone they loved; that the wheel hadn’t stopped on them, this time. Most of them made some sort of vow, conscious or otherwise, to send a message to someone important; to make contact with someone, capture for a second what was between them, and freeze it in time, mark it. I’ve not heard from him in ages, they might think, or: I’ve been meaning to say hello and I didn’t get round to it, or – if their emotions were more energetically stirred by the moment – I should tell her I love her. And a few of them would act on that impulse, but only if they did it straight away. If they put it off, the noise of life would distract them with someone else, and the thought would pass. And the intended recipient, the loved person, would go on down the path of their day without knowing they had been thought of.

EPILOGUE

EDINBURGH, 20:45

The police tape had been removed from the end of the bridge now; the Saturday night traffic was running normally across it, four cabs queuing nose-to-tail in a black wall, buses grumbling, the air cool and thin. They walked together, arm in arm. Just over twelve hours had gone by, and neither of them had had a night’s sleep before that, either. To both of them the world had a grainy quality, dipping from high to low definition and back, voices seeming too loud; small but sudden noises, a backfiring engine, a far-off firework, had made both of them jump as they left. As they came up towards the Scotsman building, Karl – with a certain reluctance – let go of James’s shoulder.

‘All right, Jamie. You go and do your thing. But I warn you, if you jump off now I’ll be pretty pissed off.’

James half-smiled. ‘I promise.’

It was only a promise for this moment, and both of them knew it; at least, James hoped that Karl knew it. He went and rested his hands on the ledge where he had seen Gina fall and he thought about how he had seen his father, mentally, fall here too.

‘Dad,’ James began, stealing a glance over his shoulder, self-conscious about Karl. But Karl was dutifully toying with his phone; he needed to check with Hugo, he’d said. The poor bugger had been holding the fort all day and would have scratched right through to the bones by now. Karl glanced up and winked at James, maintaining a respectful distance.