‘Maggie,’ she says, putting a hand to her mouth. ‘I … I don’t know what to say. I can’t imagine what you must be going through.’

‘I thought coming back to Larkfields today would help,’ I say. ‘Thought I might be able to make sense of it all, but it just raised more questions than it answered.’

‘I didn’t realize,’ she says, shaking her head. ‘I feel terrible; like I’ve made you homeless.’

‘You weren’t to know,’ I say. ‘And it’s not your fault. Oh Christ, I don’t care about the house. Nothing matters but Elspeth.’

I slam my fists on my lap. The room feels like it’s closing in on me.

‘I saw her,’ I say, tears clouding my eyes. ‘She was up on the hill by the stones. I know as a doctor you won’t believe in all that stuff but I know my little girl and she was there. She asked me to find her. I’ve been having these strange dreams where she appears and begs me to help her and, you know, I can’t shake the feeling that … oh, it doesn’t matter.’

‘No, do say.’

‘Well, it’s just I don’t feel that she’s dead. Not in here,’ I say, pressing my fist against my stomach. ‘As a mother you always know when your child needs you, when they’re hurt or in danger, and by that reckoning I would feel it if she was dead, I would just know. You may think I’m crazy but, no matter what they’ve told me, I feel like she’s somewhere out there.’

‘That’s understandable,’ says Julia. ‘You’re processing your loss. It will take time, possibly even years, for you to come to terms with it.’

‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s more than that. Today when I went up to the meadow I saw her by the stones. She was there … right in front of me.’

‘Grief can do that,’ says Julia, her voice calm and steady. ‘It’s the brain creating what it wants to see.’

‘It was Elspeth,’ I cry. ‘I don’t care if you think I’m mad, I know what I saw.’

‘I do understand, Maggie.’

‘No you don’t,’ I snap. ‘You could never understand what I’m going through. Have you ever lost a child?’

She shakes her head.

‘Of course you haven’t,’ I say, my skin prickling with sudden anger. ‘But that’s all people keep telling me: they understand. The doctors and nurses, the social workers, now you, and I want to scream and yell, no you don’t, you never will.’

I slump back in the chair, exhausted by my outburst. Julia looks at me for a moment then leans forward, her head to one side.