‘Yes, I believe so,’ Lara says. ‘I’ve done some work on this over the years. About fifty million people in the world die every day. Only about fifty of them will be within range of Exeter and, of those, only a few will be unresolved, and this seems to be the key thing. We’re here because our deaths are left hanging in some way. Other people die and don’t get stuck here. As far as I can tell – and I’m not the expert, but I’ve spoken to him a few times – you “glitch” if there’s something that’s not known about how you died. God knows what that is with me: I’ve been working on it for twenty years apparently, but I still have no idea. And, with you, it does sound like you might be about to be murdered, honey. Sorry.’

‘If I can make it to London, though,’ I say, ‘it might be different.’

‘Yeah,’ she says in a flat voice. ‘Sounds good, but it won’t work. Trust me. There’s nothing you can do to stop it. I pushed that to its limit and jumped in front of a train. It took me ages to overcome the bullshit instincts. You know: But I might die! Yeah, that ship has sailed. So anyway in the end I did it.’

I mean, I already knew this really. I did. But all the same I feel as if Lara’s picked up my last piece of hope and flung it into the flames. It burns brightly and is gone. I’m a shell, a husk, a pile of burnt twigs. I’m a glitch.

‘And?’ I manage to say.

‘I woke up, and it was morning, and I just got up and went to work.’

I don’t want to cry, but it’s too late. I’m crying. If I can’t hold on to the hope that I’ll be able to change the course of my day I don’t know what I’m going to do.

Lara’s tone changes. She starts to jolly me along like Mum used to. ‘Hey, you’ve got a detective on the outside! Can you get her to look me up? I love the idea of a ghost detective.’ She puts an arm round my shoulders. I lean into her. Weirdly, she’s the most solid person I’ve met in twenty years.

‘Of course!’

‘That would be magical. I’m Lara Billingham. I live in Exeter and work in London. I’m fifty-two and my son Josh is about to become a dad. Hence the eternal knitting. It’s for my grandbaby.’

‘Oh. I’m so sorry.’

‘Can you see if you can find out about the baby? Maybe if I give you Josh’s old address?’