I open up my emails, clicking send on the report to Mark, Gail and the Mental Health team. Job one: done. I dig out Rhys’s number to call him, but it goes straight through to voicemail. ‘Rhys, hi, it’s Kat. I wanted to check how you were doing, see if there’s anything I can do to help – with anything. I passed the book over, Susan has been reading it.’ I pause, wondering if Mark is right about getting him back in again. ‘If you felt able, I’m sure she’d like to see you again. Or if you need to talk, just ask.’ I hang up. Close my eyes. Ruffle a bit of life into my hair before heading out for our meeting.

I’ve got this.

I have. Hopefully.

Chapter Thirty

RHYS

Day one of hiding was mostly spent in my bed, feeling sorry for myself. Day two, I drove out to Ladybower Dam and walked through the forest, head down, the shade from the trees keeping me cool. Day three, today, I had planned to return to work, not least because I need the money. I’ve already ignored messages from Paul, Kat and Mum; the missed calls stacked up and guilt got the better of me. Mum instructed me to meet her on neutral territory. So I’m here, at the Botanical Gardens. Trying to be a better son, a better human being.

She’s waiting on a bench, her face towards the sunshine. ‘Morning, Mum.’ Her eyes slowly open and I lean in to give her a kiss. She reaches for my arms, letting me pull her up. I get a brief glimpse into a future where I’m the grown-up and she needs me. I don’t like it. We stand awkwardly, not quite hugging, but not fully detached from one another. What I’d do to have her give me one of those mum hugs. The ones where you just know everything’s going to be okay. Instead, she squeezes my forearm, before reaching back to collect her handbag. I miss her.‘I thought it would be nice for us to take a walk. Appreciate our surroundings,’ she says. I nod, glancing at the gardens and pavilion. Ornamental grass blows in a warm breeze and there’s a heady scent in the air, maybe lavender. ‘I love this place,’ she says, breathy and rejuvenated compared to Friday. ‘Despite the fact your dad and I used to visit, back when we were courting. We’d take a walk around then head over to Ecclesall Road for lunch.’ She smiles a distant smile. It’s not often she mentions Dad, and certainly not to replay a fond memory. A mark of her state of mind? ‘Funny how life changes,’ she sighs, a sadness crossing her face. It’s timed with a passing cloud that cuts out the sunshine, and the sudden shade reflects our mood. ‘Sometimes I wonder how I might have done things differently,’ she finishes.

‘Don’t we all.’

Like when I told our David not to be frightened of finding his birth mother. That adopted children did it all the time, that it might be the very making of him. That I was going to do the same and it was all going to be worth it.