And yet … and yet … My mind skitters to my desk, to my computer where I see all the neat folders of my inbox. I remember now, I’m sure of it.

That email address – the one from her file:

[email protected].

I’m almost certain I’ve seen it in my account.

Chapter 7

I head straight back to the office. Emma is back at her desk now, typing up her own notes. I tug my chair up to my desk just as she leans back from her keyboard and gives her arms a stretch. ‘I’m just about to put the kettle on,’ she says. ‘Would you like a tea?’

‘What?’ I shake the computer mouse to get it off standby.

‘Tea?’

‘Oh, right, thank you.’ It’s so normal for her to offer; she hasn’t realized I never drank the last one she made.

‘Coming right up.’ She flashes me a smile as she heads through to the staff kitchen. My fingers feel hollow as I log into my computer, so impatient at the time it always takes to load up. If Ms Jones contacted me, and somehow I missed it … If she needed help and I failed to respond … There aren’t even that many emails in my inbox – I’m so good at deleting irrelevant messages, or filing the actioned ones away. Out in the corridor, I can hear Emma and Abayomi talking, their voices gently rising and falling. In Outlook, I type her email address into the search bar and hit return. It only takes a moment for the screen to click over.

Your search did not produce any results.

The door of the office swings open, and Emma comes back in, her phone wedged in the pocket of her jeans and two steaming mugs in either hand. She places mine, with a wobble, on my desk.

‘Thank you,’ I say.

‘You’re welcome.’ She takes a sip from hers as she sits back down, but I just let mine sit there.

No results. Not in my inbox. But I have dozens of subfolders, all neatly labelled: for complaints, for repairs, for feedback. In each of these are hundreds of emails. So many stories, so many people who have passed through our offices. I draw a deep breath and type the email into the search bar again, [email protected], making sure this time to click the ‘all folders’ option. The search function begins to whirr its way through, throwing up its results one by one. There’s nothing in the first folder, nor the second, nor the third. I watch the search run all the way to the end. But all I get is the same message again – your search did not produce any results. And yet somehow my certainty only rises. I cannot shake the idea that I have received a message from her.

I re-type the email address and run the search again. And again.

‘Jenn?’