‘And I still think Finn took Elise,’ he says, his breath catching on his words. ‘I don’t want to believe it, but—’

‘No,’ I say, wanting to defend Finn. He lied for me. ‘He’s a good man, Thomas. I know he had issues with his mother …’ I rub my hands over my face. ‘Anyway, how can you tell if someone is a killer? They don’t exactly wear a T-shirt saying “I kill people”.’ I shudder at my stupid words. ‘And Finn is kind and cute.’ Cute? I wonder at my choice of word.

‘Kind and cute, aye?’ Thomas smiles. ‘I won’t suggest you google Ted Bundy.’

‘Oh shut up!’ But I’m glad he’s lightened things a little. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?’ I go to walk away. ‘I think there are some custard creams in the tin.’

‘No wait.’ He wheels his chair away from the table. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

‘Do I need to sit down?’ I say, picking up on his sudden serious tone.

He nods, and I perch on the edge of the sofa, my body tensing.

‘It’s not bad news,’ he says.

I relax my shoulders, reassured. ‘That’s a relief. I’m not sure I could take any more.’

‘In fact,’ he says, moving closer and taking my hands in his. ‘It’s good news.’

I look into his eyes, and it’s as though whatever he’s about to tell me has ignited a light there I haven’t seen for a long time.

‘The thing is,’ he begins, ‘before we went away, I saw another specialist.’ He pauses for a moment, and takes a breath. ‘I’d been having sensations in my toes, Amelia. I can even move my feet sometimes.’

‘Oh, Thomas.’ I fling my arms around his neck. ‘That’s amazing.’

‘Hang on,’ he says, as I release him. ‘It could be nothing, but he says there’s hope.’

A memory of seeing his toe twitch and his foot move when we were at Drummondale House filters in – how I thought it was my imagination playing tricks.

‘Oh, Thomas,’ I repeat, wrapping my arms around his neck once more, and kissing his forehead three times. ‘This is the best news ever. Why didn’t you tell me before? Does Dad know?’

He shakes his head. ‘I didn’t tell either of you. I didn’t want you to get hopeful, for it to turn out to be nothing. But now – well we need something, don’t we?’

‘We do. We do.’ I kiss his cheek.

‘Hey that’s enough kisses for one day,’ he says with a laugh. ‘I’ve got my tough image to think of.’

‘I love you, Thomas,’ I say.

‘I love you too, sis.’

Moments later Dad appears in the doorway, shoving his arms into his coat sleeves. ‘Ready, Thomas?’

Thomas looks up at him blankly.