“Oh, Lizzie, if a friendship doesn’t last, there’s usually a good reason for that. You can’t just pick things up where you left off.”

“But surely you’d have made at least some effort to—”

“Look, we should have told you we knew the Dawsons as soon as you and Alice became friends. I realize that now. But at the time, there didn’t seem much point. We didn’t want to renew their acquaintance and we were pretty certain they wouldn’t want to renew ours. Too much water under the bridge. Besides, we had no idea how close the two of you were going to become.”

“What sort of water?”

“Lizzie, it was a long time ago! Your dad and I had started going to church. The Dawsons weren’t really our sort of people. I mean, we’d known them for ages, but we were growing apart. Sheena had all sorts of problems, always blowing hot and cold. It wasn’t her fault—she was ill. Catherine virtually had to bring herself up. She was only nine, but she was always roaming around the estate with a load of kids, playing out late. A bunch of noisy little urchins, your dad used to call them. And she was very…precocious. I often used to see her hanging around with the boys.”

Mum sighs. “I tried to speak to Sheena about it once and it didn’t go well. She went mad. Accused me of being a stuck-up busybody. Besides, she’d got close to the woman living next door to her by then. Our friendship was on its last legs.”

“But, when Alice died, surely you could have—”

“Could have what? Said how sorry we were, how devastated? We did. Of course we did. We sent a card. We sent flowers. We went to the funeral. What more could we have done?”

“It’s just weird that you’ve never told me. I’m not a little girl anymore, Mum.”

“Oh, darling, I know you’re not.” She releases another small, tight sigh. “In hindsight, we should have told you. But don’t you see, Lizzie? The longer you keep a secret from someone, the harder it is to tell them the truth.”

I swallow hard. I know that what she’s saying is true. I’ve never told Mum and Dad about my nightmares. I mean, they knew I had them, but not what they were about. I could hardly tell them that, could I? And who knows when or if I’d ever have told Ross about what happened to Alice if Catherine hadn’t materialized in our lives when she did? I’m going to have to tell Mum about that, too. If I’m expecting her to be open with me, I have to do the same.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” I say. “Catherine Dawson is a nurse at Ross’s surgery.”