Back in Buckley Street, Sam says goodnight and disappears away to bed but Cara is not sleepy. The moon’s light shining into the house is like an ineluctable tide, towing her towards it, dragging her up the stairs into the kitchen. She stands still for a moment, gazing out, and then very reluctantly she opens the doors that lead on to the balcony. Gripping the door jamb, she watches the reflections that gleam on the rooftops and on the water. She doesn’t dare to look down, yet she feels compelled to take a step, to leave the safety of the kitchen and walk out on to the slatted floor of the balcony. Beneath her all is blackness, and she experiences that all-too-familiar longing to cast herself into it. Letting go of the door jamb, she steps forward. All is darkness and light; brilliance and shadow.

Cara gives a tiny sob, and stretches out a hand, as if someone might be there to take hold of her. She feels dizzy, losing all sense of where she is, and suddenly she almost falls. Her legs have encountered something unyielding and warm. She slides down, knees giving way, and encounters the solid body of Oscar, who stands across her, blocking her way. Cara crouches, putting her arms around his neck, seeing the glint of moonlight reflected in his kind, anxious eyes. Gently he edges her back towards the kitchen, and she goes gratefully, clutching his collar, closing the doors behind them. She collapses into an old wicker chair whilst Oscar stands beside her, watching her reproachfully. Cara strokes his ears, lays her cheek briefly against his warm, hard head, then she gets up and they go downstairs together.

Amy lies, wakeful and alert, watching the moonlight wheeling slowly across her bedroom ceiling. Its light reveals each well-known object, dazzles on the small mirror, picks out the books in the tall, narrow bookcase her dad made for her when she was little. Even from this distance she knows each book from its spine: The Wind in the Willows, Winnie-the-Pooh, The Hobbit. She remembers how Mum would read to her and, idly, Amy wonders what her mum would think of Cosmo.

Nobody could help liking Cosmo, she tells herself almost defensively, as if there’s some question about it. He’s such fun, so full of life and energy.