‘You’re right, Maggie, I’ve never lost a child,’ she says. ‘I’ve never been a mum. I’ve never been pregnant and given birth. I have no idea what it’s like to produce another human being, to hold it and nurture it and form an unbreakable bond with it. But I do understand loss of a kind because my mother died when I was a baby.’

‘Oh,’ I say, wiping my eyes. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘People say to me that it isn’t the same because I never knew her,’ she says, picking at a piece of cotton on the hem of her jacket. ‘That because I never had a relationship with her then I can’t feel her absence as keenly as someone who lost their mum when they were older.’

I nod my head and imagine for a moment that Elspeth had survived and not me. The hurt she would carry for the rest of her life.

‘But it’s always there,’ continues Julia. ‘This mother-shaped hole, this absence. I’ve spent my life craving a mother. To have a relationship like the one Elspeth had with you; I wanted that. I needed that.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper. And I mean it. It must have been hell to grow up without a mother.

‘Anyway,’ she says, sitting upright in the chair, regaining her composure. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I’m not just spouting platitudes. I do understand a fraction of what you’re going through and, if you’d let me, I’d like to help.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, as I told you, I’m a GP,’ she says. ‘Newly qualified but don’t let that put you off. My practice is here in Lewes, just off the high street. I don’t know where you’re registered at the moment but it would make me feel better – particularly as I’ve effectively made you homeless – if you sign up with me. I’ve had a lot of experience with depression and grief counselling and I think I could help, if you were up for that. But please feel free to say no, I won’t be offended.’

‘Oh, Julia,’ I say, sighing. ‘I know you mean well but no amount of talking or counselling is going to bring Elspeth back.’

‘That’s true,’ says Julia. ‘But like you said, there was a reason you came to Larkfields today. You wanted to trigger your memories of that night. You wanted to find answers.’

I nod my head, thinking again about that flash of red, the person standing on the riverbank.

‘And your husband? Surely you want to find him?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘Well, to do that you need to get better,’ she says. ‘Not just physically but mentally too. Now, where are you registered at the moment?’

‘Er … Newhaven.’