I glance up, half expecting to see Frank looming at me through the shadows, but the study is still deserted, the hatch an empty hole in the ground. I try to lick my lips but there’s no saliva in my mouth.

To find out I had a half-brother made sense. It explained everything – the void in my chest, the pang of loneliness that seemed to follow me about everywhere I went and the abiding feeling that my whole family was keeping a secret from me. I don’t think Mum would ever have told me if she hadn’t been drunk. I won’t repeat her exact words, Isaac, because I don’t want to hurt you, but she was maudlin and she was angry and she thought it would hurt me.

She was wrong. By telling me about you, she gave me a gift. A brother. A brother she’d given away because my arsehole of a father couldn’t deal with the fact that Mum had been with someone else. Mum didn’t – wouldn’t – tell me where you were, but I got in touch with the Salvation Army and they helped me trace you. One of your friends in Aberdeen told them you’d started a retreat in Nepal called Ekanta Yatra. I cried when I saw the website and there was no photo of you.

Isaac, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am, how angry, how much I hate …

I stop reading and grab the other piece of paper by my feet. It’s another email from Leanne to Isaac; this one is dated 12th May.

Dear bro (sorry, I know it’s cheesy but I love being able to call you that),

Amazing to hear from you, as always. I can’t begin to tell you how ridiculously excited I am about my trip to Nepal. You asked if I could bring some friends with me so they can help spread the word about Ekanta Yatra when we get back. My God, I’d love to! I definitely want Al to come; I think she’d get a lot out of the experience. Daisy too. I think you’d love her. She’s so effervescent and fun that …

I want to read more but it’s too risky to stay here. I dart into the study and scoop up more pieces of paper, never looking away from the hatch for more than a split second, then sprint back out of the room and slip into the kitchen. I keep the door ajar to let some of the candlelight from the hall into the room, but it’s gloomier in here and I have to squint to make out what’s written on the pages.

Dear Isaac,

Me again! You wanted some background info about my friends to aid their sessions with you. My pleasure!