‘Of course she wasn’t.’ David is smiling at me, but I can read pity in his eyes. ‘You were the biggest treasure in her box, Genie – the cause of most if not all her happiest moments. I told you that she would never have held a grudge, poppet. She simply wasn’t capable.’

I nod because it is too difficult to speak.

When I confessed the truth about the argument to him on the morning of the barbecue, David had said the same thing – he had told me that I was being silly to even acknowledge such a thought. But still, I had not listened; I had not been able to hear him. I needed to hear it from Anna herself.

‘It feels like she’s died all over again,’ I mumble.

Either David doesn’t know how to reply, or he’s battling with his own emotions, because for a while, neither of us says anything. The smell of burgers is overpowering the scent of shampoo in my still-damp hair, the paper bag still on the floor just inside the bedroom door.

‘You should eat,’ I say eventually, shuffling up into a sitting position. ‘You must be starving.’

‘I will if you will,’ he offers, and I shrug. Food feels like an impossibility, but I can’t remember the last time I ate. The morning feels like it happened in a different lifetime. The Genie that ate a toasted bagel and drank a coffee all those hours ago is another person – a different girl to the one sitting on this bed now.

It comes as quite a surprise to me, therefore, that I am ravenous. The cheeseburger is gone in five large bites, and I make short work of the fries, too. David watches on, nodding in approval, and breaks his own dinner up into pieces before popping each morsel into his mouth. It is such a simple thing, sitting and eating a meal together, but it’s comforting, and it doesn’t take long for the food to do its trick. I start to uncurl and relax, one yawn stretching into the next until my jaw cracks with the effort of being open.

I still have Bonnie’s story to read, but when I say as much to David, he looks at me aghast.

‘Why don’t you sleep on it?’ he pleads. ‘Just for tonight. There’s only so much a person can take in one swipe.’

‘How could I ever sleep?’ I protest gently. ‘I’m going to make a cafetiere of coffee, and then I’m going to read it. And anyway,’ I call over my shoulder as I head towards the kitchen area, ‘what could possibly shock me more than the things I have already seen – and read – today?’

It takes me two hours.