‘I’ll take her,’ says James, jumping up. ‘It’ll be quicker in the car.’ He bends to lift Susan into his arms, losing balance slightly before he’s quite got hold of her.

I cancel the call and rush over to help him. ‘Let me,’ I say, and James stands back. Ignoring the boundaries she’s put between us when conscious, I lift Susan into my arms. She’s light, barely there, so fragile. James runs to the door, holding it open with his foot as I pass through, careful not to knock or jolt her.

‘I’m coming, hang on.’ Kat runs into the kitchen to grab her phone, keys and purse then steps around me to run down the steps and over to the car. ‘Sit her in the back with me, I’ll keep an eye on her pulse and keep talking to her.’ She catches sight of my face. ‘Don’t worry,’ she advises, but there’s a panicked look in her eyes that says I’m right to be feeling this fear.

I’ve just found them, and them me. This can’t be happening.

Chapter Fifty-Two

KAT

‘Follow me,’ I say, opening my office door and inviting him to sit down. ‘Do you want a drink?’

‘Beer?’ he asks, not quite looking at me.

‘Tea…’ I offer as a lame substitute, proven when he shakes his head. I can’t blame him. It’s moments like this a hip flask would come in handy. I perch on the edge of my desk. ‘Is it a stupid question to ask if you’re okay?’

He stretches out his arms and legs, then rubs his face. ‘Yes, but there’s not many other questions you could ask, so you’re forgiven.’ He looks up to give me the smallest suggestion of a smile. It’s soon replaced by the distance he’s been wearing since Susan told her story. ‘It’s funny,’ he says, ‘David and I used to talk about this. About if we would know, you know?’ I wait for him to explain. ‘Sheffield, it’s tiny, isn’t it? As big a city as it is, and with as many people, it’s like a village. You don’t need six degrees to find a connection, there’s generally one next door.’ I move to sit opposite him. ‘He always thought he’d know if he bumped into one of his. He said there would be that connection and you’d see it.’ He sucks his teeth together. ‘I felt something with Susan, without a doubt, but I convinced myself I was being ridiculous. That it was all too obvious. That I was desperate for it to be true, clutching at any straw that came my way. I tried to convince myself it was just because of what she’d done.’

‘And now?’ I ask.

He looks out of the window. It’s almost eleven o’clock, and light pollution from the hospital has chased off any chance of seeing the night sky, yet he keeps looking. ‘It’s like every question I didn’t know I had has been answered. It’s like I’m real. Like I was meant, even though clearly I wasn’t.’ He pauses. ‘I never realised I was missing anything. Mum was Mum, and I didn’t question that despite always knowing the truth. But this…’