‘Oh, Susan,’ says James. And Susan looks to the ground.

‘I’m so sorry.’ Her voice is barely loud enough to break above the sound of our collective breath. ‘I’m so sorry, James,’ she repeats, and as he steps towards her, she falls into his arms, the sound of forty years of pain escaping her tiny body. James rests his chin on her head, wrapping his arms around her and waiting for it to pass.

It’s dark before we leave the park.

Chapter Forty-Nine

SUSAN

James guides me from his car towards the building in which Kat lives. His arm is gently secured around me, holding my weight as I take slow, clumsy, steps forward. Kat didn’t want to come here. She was insistent we should go back to the ward. James took one look at my face and knew that wasn’t what I needed. He always knew just what I needed. I could never hide how I really felt from him, even back then.Kat tried to push him, but he insisted we go anywhere but the hospital, just for now. It was like a weight lifted from my shoulders when she reluctantly agreed. ‘I should be taking you to the hospital, Susan,’ says Kat again as she pauses by her front door. I shiver and James takes his coat off, draping it around my shoulders. He pulls me in close to keep me warm. My arm, still thrust into the crutches that keep me standing, rests against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat. Just as I did all those years ago. His smell is oddly familiar, despite the time that has changed and shaped us. ‘Come in, come in,’ says Kat, nervously. ‘Rhys, can you flick that light on?’ He looks around. ‘There, by the kitchen door.’

The light kicks in, instantly chasing away the shadows from outside. Windows across one wall of her flat are now thick and black. Reflected in them, I watch Kat hurry around her home. Rhys hovers. I stand, beside James, unable, or unwilling, to break contact.

‘Sit down,’ says Kat, taking my hands. Her touch sends another shiver through me, and the spell is broken as I have to move away from James. She passes Rhys the crutches, taking my weight as I drop into the chair.

‘How long were you out there for?’ says Kat, rubbing warmth into my hands. She hands James his coat back, wrapping a thick picnic rug around me instead. It doesn’t smell of James. I wish I still had the coat.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she says.

Rhys pulls out a chair by the table, knocking it as he does. A candlestick wobbles, then falls. ‘Sorry.’ He strains as he reaches down to retrieve it. With unsteady hands, he tries to place it back where it was. It’s off-centre but he doesn’t seem to notice. The confidence he showed at the hospital has now completely gone. There’s something in his eyes. He knows… Should I take his presence here as a good sign?