‘If you’re no better by tomorrow, I’m calling the doctor myself.’

His fork dropped to the plate. Gravy splashed the sheets.

‘For Christ’s sake. Let me tell you about doctors, shall I? The doctor came out to Amy. Doubled with stomach ache she was. Fever. We’d been up all night with her crying . . . screaming. “A tummy bug,” he said. “Drink lots of water. Be a brave girl. You’ll be right as rain in a couple of days.” I didn’t think it was right . . . knew it was worse. “You must listen to the doctor,” Irene kept saying. “The doctor knows best. She’ll be fine in a couple of days.” Well, she was dead in a couple of days.’ He placed his plate on the bedside table.

I dropped my head. We remained silent for a few seconds, until I said, ‘It’s awful about Amy, Edward. But if you’re no better by tomorrow, I’m still calling a doctor.’

‘You will not. You bloody well will not.’

I could sense arguing was futile so turned to leave the room. Stabbed in the back with ‘You’re not my daughter, you know.’

When I left Edward’s, I didn’t look up towards your flat. My eyes avoided your building completely. I lit another fag and coughed as the beautiful vile smoke entered my lungs. When I dropped the lighter and packet back into my bag, I checked my phone. No missed calls. No messages. None of the usual questioning from Dale as to when I’d be home. Thankful at least for this small blessing, I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder and set off for the Tube.

It began to spit with rain.

Brolly-less, I flipped up my collar to shield my face from the droplets, which rapidly increased in size and frequency. My ears ached under the biting shower and I retracted into the neck of my coat like a threatened tortoise.

I hadn’t gone far before I sensed something wasn’t right.

Through the now pelting rain, I could hear my footsteps slap against the wet pavement. But the rhythm was off. Additional beats interspersed my own.

I walked faster.

Uncertain whether to look round or carry on. Initially I chose the latter. But the speed of my follower increased too. Once again I played out the police interview in my mind. This time, Gary Oldman was the officer. And Sir Alec Guinness was Edward, the last person to see me alive. Again I played myself, this time with a wooden cross lying upon my chest.

I’d made it to the end of the road. My sight blurred with water, I could just make out the Tesco Express sign, guiding me to safety. With the relief brought by the presence of other people, I briefly turned back.