If I could have stopped him, or spoken to him in the moments before he jumped, I might have told him that. I might have told him how proud he’d be of himself if he could see himself as I’d done.

‘He’s – he doesn’t know what he’s saying,’ Grace said quickly, turning me around and leading me back towards her car. She clicked along on her heels, pulling me, glancing occasionally into the sky. The threatening rain would ruin her hair.

It is only when Amit taps me on the shoulder that I realise that I have been crying. I look up and wipe my face with the back of a hand. His breath comes out misty in the cold air.

‘Amit?’ I say.

He sits next to me for a moment but his legs dance so much that he has to stand up. ‘Listen,’ he says, then thinks better of it whatever it might have been. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Really.’

‘Okay,’ he says, weighing up whether to say what is on his mind. ‘That woman.’

‘Yes?’ I say, wondering whether he might have carried on searching after I left.

‘You know that Farm Street is just around the corner. I saw it on Maps.’

‘Yes. I know it is.’

‘Well, if she lives there, can’t you just knock on the door?’

I consider what he has said and try to assemble into some order what I can say to him in reply. I don’t want to alarm him unnecessarily.

‘She doesn’t live there exactly. That’s where she went missing from.’

‘I don’t get it. So, did she live there and now she’s gone?’ he says confused.

‘Kind of.’

‘Does anyone live there now?’

‘Yes,’ I say.

‘Can’t you speak to them? Or have you already?’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I think he’s the reason she’s missing,’ I say, and then realise what I have said too late.

‘Shit. Do you think he killed her?’

I say nothing but have an urge to confide in him, this boy, who won’t find it hard to believe me.

‘Yes,’ I say at last.

He looks at me wide-eyed. ‘Shit. That’s dark.’

‘Yes,’ I say, and then I tell him what happened, in desperation, glad to have someone to share it.

He stares at me the whole time as if he cannot believe his luck at being included in my confidence. I have to keep reminding myself that he is still a child but I can’t help seeing him as I see Rory at that age. Fully grown. Almost.

As soon as I have finished telling him, the remorse sets in.

‘Amit,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘I’m sorry. I should not be telling you this. Look, I am obviously just a crazy homeless guy. You know that, right? Just forget it all.’