James had waited for the lab to empty before slipping out himself. Not that there was any reason to think they wouldn’t want him meeting anyone for lunch, or that they might be watching. Though when he thought about it, there was so much expensive equipment in there they probably should be watching. Especially after the break-in. And his data was so important – his research, his samples. If someone made a mess of the lab it could put him back months. So hopefully they were watching, and obviously no one would care where he ate his lunch. It wasn’t the company he was worried about. He just wasn’t sure where this meeting was going to lead.

Curiously enough, it was his wedding anniversary today. They never made a big deal of it, but there was a restaurant booked for later. Just the two of them, for a change. They’d never wanted to be the kind of parents who went away without their children – they still holidayed together, all six of them, even though the twins were seventeen now and Jules and Sarah already at university. But the house would be quiet after the twins left. He and Julianne would have plenty of time to spend, just the two of them. He’d been lucky with the way things had worked out. He was in no doubt that he loved his wife.

He’d chosen the back door as he left, not for subterfuge but because there was some kind of ruckus out front. A crowd seemed to be forming. Perhaps a celebrity was coming in. He never did read the newsletter that they emailed round every week. Still, on the research floor there was no need to interact with the parents – the photographers gathering outside had no interest in him, or he in them. Must be terrible, being famous. His life was stressful enough, but to add to that a lack of privacy? Poor souls.

It was a phrase he found himself using too often these days. Poor souls. It wasn’t meant to put anyone at a distance. Quite the opposite. We are all souls, aren’t we, he thought, we are all something more than the physical cells and proteins that compose us.

He’d stopped outside, pausing to inhale deeply, several times. He hadn’t realised that he was holding his breath as he skirted the lobby. It looked like they’d repainted the side wall of the building yet again.

But after all this time, and at this time, this precise moment, how strange, how haunting to learn that Avigail was gone. He could still picture her as she was almost forty years ago, still hear her voice – confident, determined, unshockable. If he were going to be able to talk to anyone, it would have been her. It had been so many years, though, so many good years that had passed. And on his anniversary …