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Chapters (62)
  1. Title
  2. Copyright
  3. Contents
  4. About the Author
  5. About the Book
  6. Dedication
  7. Your Worst Nightmare
  8. ONE
  9. TWO
  10. THREE
  11. FOUR
  12. FIVE
  13. SIX
  14. SEVEN
  15. EIGHT
  16. NINE
  17. The Answer to All Your Prayers
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. THIRTEEN
  22. FOURTEEN
  23. FIFTEEN
  24. SIXTEEN
  25. SEVENTEEN
  26. EIGHTEEN
  27. NINETEEN
  28. TWENTY
  29. TWENTY-ONE
  30. TWENTY-TWO
  31. TWENTY-THREE
  32. TWENTY-FOUR
  33. TWENTY-FIVE
  34. TWENTY-SIX
  35. TWENTY-SEVEN
  36. TWENTY-EIGHT
  37. TWENTY-NINE
  38. THIRTY
  39. THIRTY-ONE
  40. Somebody Else’s Child
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. FORTY
  50. FORTY-ONE
  51. FORTY-TWO
  52. FORTY-THREE
  53. FORTY-FOUR
  54. FORTY-FIVE
  55. FORTY-SIX
  56. FORTY-SEVEN
  57. FORTY-EIGHT
  58. FORTY-NINE
  59. Sunlight on Water
  60. July
  61. September
  62. Acknowledgements

‘I think he feels like an alien, and he can’t seem to reconnect. I got him those DVDs to try and get him caught up, but I don’t think he’s interested.’

She finds a packet of chocolate biscuits, tips several on to a plate and puts them at the centre of the table, helping herself to one before she sits down. She dips the biscuit in her tea, and bites off the damp edge.

‘I survived on chocolate biscuits while he was gone. No nutritional value but lots of calories. I’m trying to eat better now, and trying to get him to eat well too. He used to be such a fussy eater, a bit of a nightmare, really. Now he doesn’t seem to care at all. The doctors say he needs to put on weight, but I can’t find anything he really wants. He seems so listless, so . . .’ She glances up at the ceiling. ‘I don’t want him to hear. The first day or two, he clung to me, like he did when he was a toddler, my little shadow. Now he just wants to be up there by himself, and I don’t try too hard to persuade him down, because he feels like . . .’ Her eyes fill with tears. ‘He feels like someone I don’t know.’

‘It takes time, Claire,’ says Naylor. She sips her tea, working hard to resist the chocolate biscuits. In her pocket, her phone is buzzing, but she ignores it.

‘He doesn’t feel safe, not even with us,’ says Claire. ‘He asked Matt to put a bolt on his door, and he puts a chair under the door handle when he goes in the shower. I try not to mind. If that’s what he needs . . .’

‘We’ll get him the right help,’ says Naylor. ‘And when you think he might be ready, we’d like to talk to him. Not at the station or anything, somewhere he’ll feel supported. We have people who are specially trained. They’ll take good care of him.’

‘I want to be with him when you do that.’

Naylor sighs.

‘You know, Claire,’ she says, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘Why not? I think he’ll want me to be there.’ Claire stops, realising Evan won’t want her anywhere near. ‘But if you don’t think I should, I won’t. I suppose you know best.’

‘Can I say hello to him?’

‘You can try. Upstairs, first on the left. The one with the closed door.’

Naylor knows which room it is; she spent time here, in the early days, looking for anything which would help, finding nothing. The stickers on his door are as they were: Call of Duty, Man U, a New York Giants pennant held on with drawing pins. She listens at the door, but there’s nothing to hear.

She taps gently.