“I’m very sorry,” Lizzie said. Her heart turned over for him. “Depression is such a horrible thing.”

“I was terrified,” Johnny said, and Lizzie was struck by the starkness of his words. “I felt as though I was trapped somewhere that was completely barren. I knew people cared about me but I couldn’t feel it, I couldn’t connect emotionally with them. It was like I was on one side of a glass wall and they were reaching out to me but nothing could get through to me.” He shook his head. “I guess it’s hard to understand if you haven’t experienced it for yourself.”

“Even if you have,” Lizzie said, “it can still be hard because it’s not the same for everyone. To understand you need to listen and be tolerant and not judge...” she smiled faintly “...all the things that a lot of us aren’t great at doing.”

“You seem pretty good at listening,” Johnny said, taking one of the shortbread biscuits Lizzie had set out on a plate. “I would never have guessed.” He turned scarlet. “God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s OK.” Lizzie was laughing. “I know a lot of people think I’m pretty self-absorbed. And maybe I am,” she added ruefully. “But I’ve also had depression myself—and some counselling—so I try to be...aware.” She pushed the chocolate pot towards him. “Would you like some more?”

“Thanks,” Johnny said, topping up lavishly and adding a spoonful of sugar for good measure. “It’s easy to talk to you, actually,” he added. “Not just because you’re a good listener but also because you’re almost a stranger.” His bright blue gaze fixed on her in a way that made her heart clench with pity for him. “The others are all so careful around me. I know they’re trying to protect me but it can be stifling. I think they think I might kill myself.”

Lizzie flinched inside. Most people were not so blunt about suicide, preferring to talk in code about their thoughts and feelings. Johnny was looking it straight in the eye. She admired him for that whilst finding Arthur’s concern for his younger brother all the more agonising. No wonder Arthur had been so terrified of the consequences when Johnny had gone missing.

“Have you thought about that?” she asked.

Johnny shook his head. “No. Oh, don’t get me wrong—Millie’s death hurts like hell on Earth, but...” He stopped. “I don’t want to die too. It’s the opposite. In fact, I’d do anything to bring her back,” Johnny said suddenly, fiercely, “anything I could. If only I’d realised in time—” He stopped again, abruptly, and Lizzie waited but he didn’t complete the sentence. Once again, he looked lost in his thoughts.

“It might help to talk to someone,” she said, after a moment. “I was very closed off after my mum died. I was shipped around various people for a few years and went to boarding school so I just sort of bottled things up. That’s when I met Dudley and actually, I have to give credit to him—he was a good friend to me, when I had so few people to talk to. Anyway,” she took a breath, “when I finally started to talk about it with a professional, it was really helpful.”