I was about to start wheedling when the front door was flung wide. A young woman stood silhouetted on the top step.

Maya Kattan, at last.

She was wearing what looked like black silk pyjamas and was once again wild-eyed and dishevelled. Her face was as tear-streaked as the first time I’d seen her, and she staggered where she stood, as if it was too much effort to keep upright. And then she moved down the stairs in her bare feet, and she began to run. She ran straight past me, near enough for me to smell her musky perfume. I called her name but she didn’t even hesitate, just kept going right past me towards the side of the house, across the gravel, despite her lack of shoes.

As I wavered there, two paramedics emerged from the house, stretchering a body, totally covered, down the stairs.

The wind sighed through the blossom trees as a human voice raised to join it in a chilling scream. I turned to see Maya falling, sprawling on the gravel, and I began to run towards her myself, driven by instinct, by her obvious pain – but someone else had materialised beside her. He was there, leaning down to pick her up, and I slowed, unsure what to do, filled with a sudden emotion I couldn’t place.

The stretcher was down the stairs now, being lifted into the ambulance. I glanced back to Maya and I was halted by the look on Danny’s face; the hairs went up on my arms as I read the expression of tenderness. I watched the way she placed her hand in his, rather like a child would. She let him pull her up, and he leaned down and said something to her, pushing the glossy black curtain of hair behind her ear very gently. I noticed that her hands were intricately tattooed with henna as she stood alone now and shook her head at something Danny said, and began to walk away, round the back of the house.

I stepped in her direction but this time it was Danny who blocked my way.

‘I don’t know why I’m not surprised to see you here,’ he said, the Scottish drawl weary. He looked like he hadn’t slept, his sun-bleached hair dishevelled, his black windbreaker zipped up to his unshaven chin. ‘You’re like a bad penny.’

‘I got a call,’ I said lamely. ‘I thought perhaps I could help.’

Maya Kattan had vanished as the doors of the ambulance slammed shut behind us.

‘It’s a bit late for help, I’d say, wouldn’t you?’

From somewhere came an almighty revving of a powerful engine. Danny glanced round and then back at me. ‘I think you should go, doll. Go back to where you stay. Now. Before there’s any more trouble.’

We locked eyes.

‘This, Rose Miller, this is not a happy family to be around.’