‘Don’t you think we tried, Daniel?’ his mum said carefully. ‘But what sort of a life would it have been, being watched the whole time? With no knives being allowed in the house and doors that can’t be locked? The only chance Atticus had of being happy was by making a life for himself. We couldn’t babysit him. He had to live for himself.’

They’d filled the flat with bits and pieces for him, all of it intentional. All of it to make the place seem like a home. Memories of them, records to play, books to read, spoons and dishes to cook with. Nothing had worked.

‘I failed him,’ Dan whispered to them. ‘I killed him. I didn’t give him enough to live for.’

‘No, son,’ his dad said. ‘Atticus killed himself. It had nothing to do with you. He’d tried a few times, and we knew he’d try again. It was always going to happen.’

‘I thought I made him happy,’ Dan said.

‘Dan, people can be happy and still want to stop.’

Dan called them a week later. ‘You might have to tell me that last bit again, please,’ he said.

‘We’ll tell you as many times as you need.’

Atticus left Dan the flat, which he didn’t want and wasn’t Atticus’s to give, but his parents insisted. ‘You made him so happy, Daniel. He was his best self with you. Make it something wonderful.’

In time, Dan will come to understand they were telling him the truth. Atticus had always felt too light, too insubstantial. Not here to stay. Not Dan’s, or anyone else’s.

In time, Dan will turn the flat into a counselling practice. He didn’t and couldn’t save Atticus, but Dan will save others from suicide, and many more things besides. He will save Tony, who calls the helpline number Dan has attached to the top of railway bridges. He will talk him down and talk him home. He will save John, who wants to jump in front of a train because his wife left him. Dan will save many people. Necks won’t break because of him. Bones will remain intact. Rigor mortis will not set in. He will save people who will go on to do great things and nothing at all. He will even save a man who wears loafers to pretend he’s fine and life’s a game. Over the years, Dan will save hundreds of people, and each time a tiny bit of him will come back to life.

The charity will grow, and it will win awards, and Dan will be revered. He will happily tell people he’s gay. He’ll flirt by the water-cooler. He won’t be shy or embarrassed and will imagine Atticus laughing at him as he strides past.