Upstairs, the door is open to the box room at the front of Susan’s house. It’s empty except for the bed and bedside table – no book, so this can’t be her room. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here for years. I shake my head, stepping back slightly as Kat moves to let me pass. Her breath is shallow; her arms are wrapped around her. I go to the only other room with a door open, at the back of the house, beside her airing cupboard. I can almost see her, standing beside me as I worked; I can almost smell the soup she was cooking for her parents’ lunch. The memory is oddly vivid.

Inside the room, a bed is made, beige sheets tightly tucked into the mattress. On the table beside it, there’s a book.

‘Look,’ Kat points. ‘Is that it?’

I step across the room, the floorboards creaking under my feet. Gold italic writing weaves across the front of the book. The Brothers Grimm: The Complete Fairy Tales. I nod, lifting it from the table. It’s heavy. The fabric cover is slightly rough to my touch.

‘Fuck.’ Kat falls against the wall, letting out a breath so long it’s like she’s been holding it since we entered the house. She rubs at her face, looking pale and worn out. The earlier trace of mascara has now been wiped clear.

‘Are you okay?’ I step towards her, my arm out in case she falls.

She pushes herself back off the wall, brushing herself down, recovering her composure. ‘I’m fine,’ she says. ‘I’m fine.’ I follow her gaze as she surveys the room. ‘I can’t believe anyone could live like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like… she wasn’t really here. It’s as if she didn’t want to disturb the house.’

She’s right. That’s exactly it. ‘It’s a bit of a time warp, isn’t it?’ I run my hand down a white and brown wardrobe that surrounds the bed. ‘Welcome to 1976, we hope you’ll be very happy here.’ Kat tries to laugh, but it’s constricted. ‘Come on,’ I say. ‘We’ve got the book.’ But I don’t move, because although I know we have what Susan needs, I’m not sure I have what I need.

It’s not that I expected to find it written on the wall, but I thought there’d be something. An indicator as to why someone would take their own life. Or try to. Not just Susan, but anyone. I was hoping for answers. I look around. I sniff the air. Is there something we’ve missed? Something I can go back to Susan and ask her about?

Kat half smiles at me, then takes the lead. I feel a thaw in her mood, a moment of breakthrough. Perhaps I’ve been unfair. Since the incident with the key, my ego has been bruised. I’ve been defensive. But this situation is bigger than me. Maybe it’s bigger than both of us, and maybe she’s seen that.

At the foot of the stairs, Kat stops. ‘I might just check the kitchen.’ She glances up the hallway ‘She’s going to be with us for a while. Maybe we should clear it of perishables, you know? Cheese or bread or something. That milk’ll go off. Can you write a note to cancel any more? Since we’re here.’