‘Rover died, we came downstairs one morning and found him lying on his back on the floor, motionless. Dad was away with the army, so we dug a grave, Mom and I, at the end of the yard, under the tree. It was evening time, still bright but getting shadowy.’

His voice cracks, he’s finding it hard to release the truth. Turning his head away from me he looks towards the window, staring into space.

Am I going to be able to handle this? Will I survive the truth? Should I ask him to stop? But I need to know what happened.

‘I remember feeling sad,’ he says. ‘That Rover was gone… but I also remember enjoying digging that hole with Mom. Well, she dug, I helped with my toy shovel. Then she wrapped Rover in a bag and placed him in the hole and said prayers over him. I felt really important, like an adult. It was my first taste of responsibility, digging that grave.’

What the fuck is he talking about?

‘Remember Becca, I was only a child…’

My head is thumping. Reaching into my bag, I search for some Advil but find none. Rubbing my temples, I close my eyes and pray for some relief. Danny continues.

‘The following day Mom asked me to watch you while she took a bath… It feels wrong saying you, it wasn’t you, you’re still here… Mom asked me to watch over the baby. She was asleep in the crib and I guess Mom expected her to stay asleep. And she did, but when I looked into the crib I saw a motionless baby lying there, and thought…’

He puts his hands in his hair, tearing at it in clumps, howling in pain. ‘I’m so sorry, Becca. I thought she was dead too, she was lying just like the dog on her side, I couldn’t see her breathe.’

My head spins. I’m going to be sick again. Jumping up from the chair I rush to the bathroom and close the door behind me. Wiping my hands and face, I stare in the mirror.

‘Hello, Louise.’

When I get back to Danny, his head is resting on the table between his praying hands. I resume my position on the other side of the table. He looks up as I sit down.

‘So what happened?’ I say.

Danny looks around the room, but there’s no escape.

‘I decided to bury her, before Mom came back down the stairs. So I dug up Rover’s grave, the clay was still soft, moved easily with my toy shovel. Then I put the baby into the hole and covered her with the clay.’