EVA WALKED CONFIDENTLY up the stairs to the flat she had once shared with Piotr. She didn’t want to show any hesitation, didn’t want him to think she could still be hurt by the memories. The building was dimmer than she remembered. In her mind it was always filled with daylight. Not today. Despite the glaring sun – there was not a cloud in the sky, she’d searched – inside it was dark and she had to focus on where to step. Her hand stayed on the banister.

Turning the last corner on the third flight of stairs, she stopped, static, bristling. Staring at her was an old woman that she recognised so hazily it felt as if she’d known her a very long time ago. Why did that unflinching face feel so familiar?

‘Piotr!’ she called, and cringed as it came out louder than she’d intended. Her voice seemed to echo, shrill, in the stairwell. He was two flights behind her – he’d stopped to pick up some post by the door.

She cleared her throat.

The old woman was standing up now, slowly, as though it cost her some effort to do it. She seemed to be rubbing her behind.

‘Are you … OK?’

‘You try sitting on those stairs for two hours.’

Eva looked over her shoulder.

‘Piotr,’ she called, softer.

He passed the final corner and stopped beside her, astonished.

‘Well, it took you long enough,’ the old woman said.

Eva watched her, still hoping for a sign of who she was.

Piotr hadn’t replied.

‘You know where Freida is,’ the old woman said, facing Piotr now and ignoring Eva completely.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘I know … Nothing really. Hints, rumours, that’s all. Is that why you’re here?’

Oh my God.

‘Well, I know things,’ said Holly Bhattacharyya. ‘Things that she’s said to me, and comments she made when she thought I wasn’t listening. There was a postcard, once. Also, I have an idea about why she left.’

Eva raised her eyebrows.

‘So if we put it all together,’ Holly said. ‘We might have something.’

Holly didn’t seem like a woman who had just lost her grandchild. Great-grandchild. But then what does that look like? Different for everyone, Eva knew. And personal. And not something you necessarily display on your face.

‘Well, are you going to invite me in?’ she said. ‘I’ve brought a big map. I like maps.’

She produced a large map of the UK and waved it at them, impatiently.

‘Yes,’ Piotr replied, his voice like a sigh. ‘It is good to see you, Holly.’

Her eyes narrowed.

‘Please,’ he said. ‘Please, come in.’

Holly cleared her throat, loudly and unnecessarily. They were seated in a row on a cat-hair-covered sofa in a shabby living room with the blinds drawn. Piotr still hadn’t introduced the woman who was with him, so Holly got tired of waiting and did it herself.