She hands the brush to Maureen, who steps into the bathroom and takes her place between Chloe and the shower cubicle, still opaque with steam. Chloe pushes her hair back behind her shoulders as Maureen starts to tease the knot out of her hair silently.

She smiles as she brushes her hair slowly. ‘I haven’t done this in a long time,’ Maureen says.

Chloe realizes she must be talking about Angie.

‘No, I don’t suppose you have,’ she says.

Maureen holds Chloe’s head so tenderly with her left hand while the right hand works on the knot. Chloe doesn’t feel her head tug once.

‘Wow, you’ve really got the touch, haven’t you?’ Chloe says as with each sweep of the brush more matted hair is released.

But Maureen doesn’t stop once she’s got the knot out; instead she starts to brush the rest of Chloe’s hair, a look of deep concentration on her face. Chloe reaches for the sink to steady herself. In the clearing mirror, she watches Maureen’s reflection. Does she really need all those tablets every day? Chloe isn’t even sure what each one does, or what Maureen needs them to do.

Maureen stops brushing and sweeps her right hand down the length of Chloe’s hair.

‘Lovely,’ Maureen says, ‘almost black, just like . . .’

The two women meet each other’s eyes in the mirror. Chloe sees the hint of a puzzle appear in Maureen’s expression.

‘Well, I’d better get to work,’ Chloe says finally. She holds out her hand for the brush. It takes a second for Maureen to hand it to her.

‘Yes, of course, there you go, love.’

Maureen leaves the bathroom and when Chloe hears her bedroom door close she crosses the landing to her own bedroom to dress.

Chloe catches the bus into town, sitting among her fellow commuters as she does every day. The only difference is that they’re heading to jobs, whereas she’s leaving hers until dusk. Because that’s what her role is at the Kyles’ house, it is a job of sorts. She has to keep reminding herself of that. As they drive towards the city, she envies these commuters their desks and when the bus slows for the roundabout beside the newspaper offices, Chloe looks up at the third floor and the safety of the archive. A place that had always seemed to yield answers, whereas now all she has is questions.

She can’t face Park House today so decides to go to the library. It’s warm and quiet there, the only other place in this city where she can sit peacefully among other people’s stories.