Of course Marianne doesn’t know. How on earth was she supposed to? I’ve gone looking to her for information, but to begin with, I have to tell her why. ‘I’m so sorry to have to tell you this,’ I say. I don’t know what to do but come out with it. ‘Sarah … Sarah Jones … she died.’ I wrap an arm around my waist. I’m light-headed as I relay the basics to Marianne. ‘She was living here, in Brixton, and she passed away. By herself, in her flat. Nobody missed her for a really long time. Somehow she completely fell off the radar.’

Marianne goes very quiet when I tell her. I wonder if she thinks I’m joking. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like this, I realize. This is something that should be broached face to face; a normal person would have understood that straight away. We are practically strangers to each other after all this time, Sarah Jones our only morbid link. How can we really talk about this over the phone?

‘Marianne? Could we possibly meet? I’d really like to talk to you. I’m … I’m trying to make sense of things and perhaps you can help.’

‘Meet up?’ says Marianne, her voice a little breathless. ‘Yes, I suppose that might be best.’

She tells me she has a few health problems and isn’t managing to get out much. Would I be willing to come to her? ‘I can give you my address right now,’ she adds.

I’ve no time to think, and anyway how could I say no? ‘Yes – just wait one second. Let me get a pen and paper.’ I almost slip as I hurry through to the kitchen, wet feet on bare linoleum. I fumble on the counter, somehow finding a biro.

Now I just need something to write on, but all I can find is Molly’s birthday invite, stuck on the fridge. I tug it down and flip it over, blank side up, on the table.

‘Did you find a pen?’ Marianne says.

The biro I’m holding quivers in my hand; drops of water fall from my hair. Am I really going to do this? Meeting up with Marianne means committing, and it means explaining everything I’ve done. But meeting up with Marianne is perhaps my only chance for answers. The pen steadies as I press it to the paper.

‘Okay,’ I say, ‘I’m ready. Go on.’

Chapter 12

BACK THEN

There is a visitor now who comes to Prin’s house. Mum says she is going to come every week.

‘What for?’ says Prin, and Daddy says, ‘To make sure that we are all doing fine!’