It was coming from the main bedroom. She entered and the sound was louder but still muffled. She realized it was from inside Liam’s bag. She unzipped the bag, opened it and the sound became clearer, more insistent. She pushed her hand inside, through clothes, rummaging, and her hand closed around something. She pulled it out and saw she was clutching a ringing phone. She stared at it as if it was an alien object. The caller ID said “Erika.” She clicked on it.

“Hello?” she said.

“What?” said a voice. “Hello, Liam, is that you?”

Jude looked at the phone, horrified, frozen. She didn’t know what to do. She switched it off and put it back in the bag and stared down at it. She felt utterly confused. Why had Liam packed his phone in his bag? Could he possibly have done so by mistake? If it was his phone, did that mean he had another with him? Or no phone at all? Or was it somebody else’s? That made even less sense and the voice had asked for Liam.

Jude left the room and started to walk downstairs but then she stopped halfway, thinking furiously. She couldn’t make sense of anything. Liam hadn’t arrived on the train. Was that part of his plan? Liam’s phone was in his bag. Was that part of his plan too?

She walked back upstairs, picked up the bag and put it on the bed. She didn’t know if this was right or wrong but she had to do it. She started to unpack the contents onto the bed. She did it slowly and carefully so that she would be able to replace everything, leaving no sign.

It was just what you’d expect in the luggage of someone staying away from home for a day or two: a heavy-duty blue shirt, a zip-up sweater, underwear, socks, a pair of trainers, a pair of jeans, earphones. She unzipped a gray cloth sponge bag and found a toothbrush, toothpaste, a miniature deodorant can, a bottle of scent, cotton wool, a plastic razor. It seemed as if Liam had packed in a hurry. Everything looked as if it had been tossed in, without being folded properly. She picked up a small, carved piece of wood attached to a leather thong. She held it in the palm of her hand for a moment. It was a tiny wishbone, beautifully cut and shaped, and it reminded her of the Liam she had known, always fixing something or making something. He would do it absentmindedly, whittling at a piece of wood with a penknife.