I watched a video someone had posted on YouTube once, and it confirmed all my fears. The thought of Ross seeing me thrashing about like a drowning fish, foaming at the mouth, wetting myself. I screw my eyes shut, but it’s no good. The images won’t go away. They line up like a series of disturbing black-and-white pictures in old medical textbooks.

“Come on,” Ross says, helping me up from the sofa. “I’ll bring you a glass of water.”

I trudge upstairs, trying not to look at the ruined walls in our hallway. Some of the lining paper has torn where Ross has tried to sponge them clean. There’s no way we’re going to get rid of the stains. The whole thing will need repainting.

It must be getting on for 3 a.m. before he finally comes to bed. I’ve been awake the whole time, tossing and turning and getting myself all worked up. I knew something bad was going to happen. I sensed it, like the feeling I get before a seizure, when the world feels out of kilter and you can’t put your finger on what’s changed. It’s like the universe has been sending me signs.

At first, I thought it was the news story about Elodie Stevens—similar cases always have an effect on me—but then there’s that box Mum and Dad suddenly decided to bring over—why didn’t they just leave it in the attic?—and the little train that appeared on the wall, and all those weird phone calls. And now, to top it all off, Catherine bloody Dawson has walked back into my life. There must be a reason for all this. It must mean something.

I hear Ross cleaning his teeth and peeing, then he climbs in next to me, his right arm encircling my body, his feet entwined with mine. I know if I told him what I was thinking, if I voiced my fears, he would try to placate me with statistical theories of improbability. He would tell me, gently and patiently, that these are all random events and that the universe is most unlikely to arrange itself purely on my behalf, and he would be right. But still…

Instinctively, I touch my stomach. Still no sign of my period. This business with Catherine has wiped it clean out of my mind.

I wait until Ross begins to snore before I slide carefully from his grasp and out of bed.

16

I tiptoe downstairs and rummage in the bottom of my bag. I need to get this pregnancy test done and find out one way or the other.