‘Okay,’ she says as she disappears into the kitchen. ‘I won’t be a sec.’

I sit on the sofa and close my eyes. As I listen to Julia preparing the tea in the kitchen I suddenly feel very calm. I like that she’s here.

‘Here we go.’

I look up as she comes in with the tea. She places a cup in front of me.

‘Are you not having one?’ I say, picking up the cup.

‘No,’ she says, sitting down on the armchair opposite me. ‘Water’s fine for me.’

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a bottle of mineral water, an expensive brand. She unscrews the top, takes a sip then puts it back in the bag.

‘So, Maggie,’ she says, sitting up straight. ‘It’s been a few days since I prescribed the new medication. How are you managing with the tablets?’

I roll the question over and over but my mind is blank.

‘Maggie?’

‘Oh, they’re fine,’ I say. ‘I’ve been feeling a little floaty today but I’m not sure whether that’s the tablets or just me.’

‘When did you last take one?’

‘About an hour ago.’

Julia narrows her eyes.

‘And are you still feeling floaty?’

‘I’m just very tired,’ I say, leaning back into the sofa. ‘But I don’t know if it’s the tablets or the shock.’

‘Shock?’ says Julia, frowning.

‘I went to see someone I used to know,’ I tell her, my voice slow and laboured. ‘And it just brought back some painful memories, that’s all.’

‘Okay,’ says Julia, her features softening.

‘There’s something else that’s been troubling me,’ I say. ‘Something I found.’

‘Oh? What was it?’

‘I’ll show you.’

I put my tea down on the table next to me then stand up and go to the bedroom. The letter is where I left it, on the radiator. It got so wet the other night I was worried it was ruined but the heat has dried it and the writing can still be made out. I carefully lift it off and bring it back into the living room.

‘Sean, or someone close to him, had put all of my things in a storage unit,’ I say to Julia. ‘When I went there the other day I found this.’

I hand her the letter.

‘It was underneath one of the boxes.’

‘What is it?’ she says, holding the paper tentatively.

‘Read it,’ I say, returning to the sofa.

I watch as she unfolds the paper. As she reads she lets out a little gasp, then drops the letter on to her lap. When she looks up her eyes are watery. Tiredness or tears? I can’t be sure.

‘It’s from Elspeth,’ I say. ‘Though I have no idea when she wrote it.’

‘Elspeth,’ she repeats, nodding her head.