‘I don’t think …’ God, why did Saskia have to spot DC Stone again? Why is she an expert on restraining orders? And why does she need to know every minuscule detail of Beth’s life?

‘Come on, Beth. Stalking is much more likely to escalate than de-escalate – you know that.’

Saskia’s voice reverberates around Beth’s head like a swarm of bees. And she’s not sure that the pills are out of her system yet either. She’s exhausted. Her head feels like mush. She mustn’t let Saskia penetrate her shell again, but it’s difficult.

‘Beth? Are you okay?’

‘Huh?’ Her insides feel like they’re buzzing too now, her heart on vibrate. But no wait, she is buzzing. It’s her phone in her jacket pocket. She pulls it out on autopilot, looks at the screen. Eddie. Shit. She shoves it back in her pocket. But it only stops ringing for a moment before it starts again.

‘You can get it,’ Saskia says, nodding, probably desperate to know who Beth’s not willing to speak to. ‘The show isn’t due to start for another ten minutes.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ It rings again and Beth tries to ignore it, continue smiling, but Saskia is openly staring at her jacket pocket. She realises that she’s got no choice. Blood rushes between her ears as she reaches inside, curls her fingers around the cool metal and accepts the call. She pushes it as hard as possible against her ear and sways slightly. ‘Hello?’

‘Elizabeth?’ A tiny whisper but Beth can hear the Romanian accent. ‘Thank you for picking up. I know you don’t like us leaving a message, clogging up your work phone, but I need to speak with you.’

‘No problem,’ Beth says, keeping her tone neutral as Saskia’s expression moves from encouraging to intrigued. ‘How can I help?’

‘Help? Oh, mea dragă, we don’t need anything. But I have some difficult news. I wanted to tell you in person but …’ Beth’s mum’s voice trails off and the line goes quiet, just the thin gasps of someone trying not to cry. But you never visit, Beth silently finishes for her. Beth looks at Saskia’s curious expression and grips the phone tighter. She wishes she could cut her mum off, say something to a dead line that will satisfy her awful friend and then call back when she’s safely at home. But how could she possibly do that when her mum’s obviously close to tears?

‘Oh?’ she tries, hoping it will be enough to prompt her mum to keep talking.

‘A nurse came this afternoon. She’s called Cathy; she’s one of those community nurses.’

Beth’s heart booms in her ears. Is one of her parents sick? ‘That’s nice,’ she says blandly. ‘Why?’