He’d ignored her, of course. He’d been totally focused on his goal and oblivious to her yelling and the express train thundering behind him, its horn blaring. He’d pushed his way through the large shrubs lining the platform and found a discarded plastic bag attached to a branch; then, finally, he’d sunk to his knees. Was it relief or the realization that he’d risked his life for a TK Maxx carrier that had brought him to the ground? She hadn’t much cared at that point. She’d run towards him and shoved him hard.

‘Don’t ever do anything so stupid again,’ she’d hissed. Then she’d walked away and left him to receive some even sterner words from the police.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered now.

Jameson turned towards her. He’d picked up dinner from the petrol station but his vacuum-packed sandwich sat untouched in his lap. ‘Huh?’

‘I know you want to go to Ilkley, but I need to stay here until the last train passes.’

The police had said they had more pressing issues to deal with.

‘It’s the least I can do.’ He picked at the packaging. ‘What happened, Augusta? Was it a boyfriend?’

‘It was a child,’ she said, then added quickly, ‘Not mine. But I had a duty of care.’

Bloom could remember her mother standing at the open door of their home as the woman screamed, ‘Where is she? Tell me where she is!’

‘Augusta?’ Jameson rested his hand on her arm.

She forced the memory away. ‘Sorry. This is hard to talk about.’ She took a breath. ‘Hard to remember.’

Jameson removed his hand and she knew he was telling her to take her time.

She took a minute to compose herself. ‘My mother had a friend. Her name was Penny. They’d known each other since primary school. Her daughter …’ She needed to keep the images at bay and focus on the facts. ‘Her daughter was twelve years younger than me. Penny had struggled to have children.’ She paused. Was that relevant? Of course it was. To desperately hope for a child, then lose them, only made the tragedy worse. ‘Penny’s daughter had been in trouble at school and Penny asked if I would speak to her.’ A small, strangled laugh escaped her throat. ‘I thought I could practise my new skills, show off to my mother, who frankly thought my becoming a psychologist was one step away from hypnotizing partygoers to bark like dogs.’

Jameson made an appreciative hum in response to her attempt at humour.

‘I had no idea the damage I could do.’