‘What . . . what happened earlier, you’ll have to forgive me,’ he says.

Maureen pats his hand.

‘It . . . it was just a shock to see . . . well, it’s been a long time, I don’t have to tell you,’ he says.

Chloe nods. She cups her hands together in her lap. She is still, resenting even the requirement to breathe. She doesn’t want anything to interrupt this moment.

Maureen interjects. ‘Patrick’s sorry for the way he reacted,’ she says, ‘he didn’t mean to frighten you.’

Patrick coughs again. He looks at his wife, as if he’s unsure of what he’s going to say next, but she smiles at him, encouraging him on.

‘I think, what I found so shocking was . . . was the resemblance between you and’ – his eyes flicker up to Angie on the sideboard and he squeezes them shut – ‘. . . and to our Angie. Perhaps I haven’t wanted to . . . acknowledge it before, but I guess that . . . well, seeing you there in that blouse . . .’

Maureen looks at him, nodding. He goes on.

‘I know Maureen’s felt like this for a long time, and to me, well, I guess I’d given up hope a long time ago. But maybe . . . well, tonight, I’ve had to admit that . . . maybe there is something in it, I mean, maybe there’s a chance . . .’

Maureen rests her hand on his leg and he pauses.

Chloe’s heart races inside her chest on the other side of the living room. She stays still, silent. She may still be wrong.

‘What Patrick is trying to say is, we think . . . well, we know it sounds ridiculous’ – Maureen laughs a little – ‘but we think maybe there’s a chance that you could be Angie. You could be our missing girl.’

Chloe takes a long, slow exhalation. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath the whole time Patrick had been talking. However many times she might have fantasized about this moment, it still manages to come as a surprise. She feels faint; her hands grip the cushion she sits on; the air in the room feels thin. Her head light.

Maureen and Patrick stare at her from across the room. Patrick wrings his hands in his lap.

‘Could I . . . could I get a glass of water?’ Chloe says.

‘Yes,’ Maureen says, springing up from her seat. ‘Yes, of course.’

Maureen goes into the kitchen, and Patrick sits staring at the floor, giving Chloe a few precious seconds to think. Is it true, what they just said, that they think she is Angie? Maureen returns with the glass. She takes it.

‘Oh, you’re shaking,’ Maureen says.

Chloe takes a sip. ‘Yes, sorry, it’s . . .’

‘It’s the shock, isn’t it, love?’