Lena led her past the closed spare-room door and into Nic’s room. She wished the social worker could’ve seen it last week, to appreciate the miracle Lena had performed in here. Three pieces of furniture—bed, bedside table, dressing table—each cleared of everything but the essentials. The bed made up with pink and white rose-covered sheets, a pastel pink quilt, two pillows in matching cases. It had taken the better part of an hour sorting through the mountains of linen to find matching pieces and then to shake out all the wrinkles and smooth them over the bed. Worth the effort though; it looked cosy and soft and clean. A perfect welcome home.

The bedside table held a single touch-operated lamp (six more- or-less identical items were in the skip alongside five different kinds of desktop lamps). The dressing table top was completely clear, its four drawers emptied of a hundred things that nobody needed and then neatly refilled with: 1) moisturiser, lip balm, hairbrush and a scrunchie; 2) seven pairs of clean underwear; 3) seven pairs of clean socks; 4) two pairs of clean pyjamas.

Apart from the closed, organised, built-in-wardrobe there was nothing—nothing—else in the room.

Ada moved (easily! freely!) around taking pictures. ‘This is where Nicole fell, yes?’

‘Yeah. Off the dressing table. It had a lot of stuff on it then, though. And she fell on a whole heap of hard stuff, not the floor like this.’

‘You can see where she bled and that, just here.’ Will pointed out the area of carpet Lena had scrubbed and re-scrubbed until the stain was unnoticeable. Unless you really wanted it noticed and so pointed it out.

‘It’s been cleaned, though? The whole carpet, I mean.’

‘Yep,’ Lena said.

‘Not, like, by a cleaning company or anything, though,’ Will said. ‘Just leave-in shampoo and some good old elbow grease.’

Lena wanted to slap him with her chafed and flaking hands, but Ada obviously liked him and wanted him to like her so he was, in one way at least, being useful.

‘It’s quite bare in here,’ Ada said.

‘Isn’t that the point? So there’s nothing for her to—’

‘Sure, sure. But did you read the literature I gave you?’

Lena had not. She had, in fact, chucked it all in the bin before she left the hospital. It was a matter of pride, not to mention survival, that she brought nothing new into this house.

‘The thing is,’ Ada went on, talking mostly to Will anyway, ‘Nicole is likely to experience some distress when she comes home and finds all her things have been removed. I’m concerned for her welfare when she finds her space so bare.’

‘I don’t …’ Lena took a breath, staving off tears. ‘I thought the concern for her welfare was because the space was too full. Isn’t this—’ she waved an arm over the beautiful, clean, clear space ‘—isn’t this what you wanted?’