“Hi, Mum. What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to check everything’s OK with you and Granny?”

“Yep, we’re fine. I’m doing my homework and Granny’s unpacking.”

Jess pulled at a loose piece of skin at the base of her thumbnail, felt a sharp skewer of pain as she tugged it free. “I’m hoping we won’t wrap too late today. I’ll ask Justin if Sacha can clear up for me and then I should be home in time to give Granny a hand.”

“Honestly, don’t worry about it. We’re totally fine. We’re fine, aren’t we, Granny? Granny says yes. Seriously, it’s not as if there’s much you can do here anyway. Granny said she’d rather unpack by herself and I’ve already made a fish pie for dinner. If you’re not home in time, Granny and I will eat, and we’ll save you some for later.”

Jess sucked at her thumb where a small speck of blood was seeping through. “OK, if you’re sure. Just don’t forget you’ve got that history essay to write this weekend. You don’t want to be rushing it at the last minute.”

“I won’t, I promise. Have a good day and we’ll see you later. Love you.”

“I love you too.”

As the call ended, Jess opened the address book on her phone and scrolled through the names, trying to find someone she might text to avoid the professional small talk downstairs. There were so many entries—school friends, university friends, former colleagues—and yet no one to whom she could send a chatty unsolicited message without it seeming strange. It was as if her address book were a directory of ghosts, a reminder of all the friendships she had allowed to lapse over the years.

She hesitated, felt temptation prickle the tips of her fingers. She watched her thumb hover over the internet icon, felt it goading her, enticing her, drawing her in.

Stop. Don’t do it. You’ll only regret it afterward.

The voice of reason spoke clearly in Jess’s head but her hand now seemed to be working independently of common sense. She watched as she began typing in a name she had entered so many times before, and so frequently, that Google’s search engine knew precisely what she was seeking after only the third letter.

Do not click on the links. It’s not too late. You can still stop.

But it was too late. It was always too late once the seed had been sown. A moment’s boredom, a sleepless night, a frustrating day. Jess could never stop herself once the thought had occurred.

Lily Goldsmith.

The sight of her sister’s name caused a tightening of the muscles across Jess’s stomach.

Jess scrolled down the list of results, hunting for an unread article. Three pages in and every item was something she’d seen before: Lily speaking at international conferences, Lily collecting awards, Lily in receipt of yet another promotion.

Jess clicked the news tab, hoping it might bear more fruit. But there was nothing there that she hadn’t read before either. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or exasperated. Part of her was pleased her sister hadn’t managed to garner any more press coverage in the forty-eight hours since she’d last checked but another part of her felt cheated.