I shoot her a friendly smile. “I’ll see you at work on Monday. I think we’ve got a new arrival booked in. I can show you how we do the registration process.”

“Great.” Her smile returns but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Great, I’ll see you then.”

She looks at me for several seconds, as though deciding whether or not to add something else, then nods curtly and raises a hand in goodbye. “I’ll see you on Monday, then, Jane.”

She rounds the table and heads for the front door, pulling it closed behind her with a click.

I wait until the VW Polo purrs to life and crunches its way down the driveway then I take a step towards the kettle and press my fingers against its shiny curved belly.

Cold.

I cross the kitchen to the Welsh dresser, pick up the cake and move it to the table, then turn back. The paperwork in the filing tray, previously squared up and piled neatly, is askew. I rifle through it, tossing aside gas bills, council tax forms and articles I’ve snipped from the newspaper. The envelope – the one with Jane Hughes written in neat handwriting in blue biro on the front – is gone.

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Five Years Earlier

Within seconds, I’m surrounded. Isaac and Cera dart out from his study, and Sally and Rajesh hurry out of the kitchen. Daisy snatches her hand from my shoulder and stares at me in horror.

“What did you scream for?” She presses her hands to her chest. “Jesus fucking Christ, Emma, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“What happened?” Isaac puts a hand on my shoulder, a look of concern on his face. He doesn’t know I was listening to him and Cera talking about Al.

“Nothing. Daisy startled me when she touched me, that’s all.”

He glances down at my grazed knee. “What happened there?”

“She fell over.” Sally skips to my side and links her arm through mine, but her eyes don’t leave Isaac’s face. Raj takes a step back towards the kitchen. “I was cleaning the girls’ shower block when I heard a noise, and I found her on the walkway. One of her flip-flops broke and she tripped.”

Isaac stoops and peers at me. “And you’re sure you’re okay?”

I fan my hand in front of my face. It’s hot in the hallway and everyone’s standing too close. They’re all watching me – staring – waiting for me to speak. A bead of sweat dribbles down my back. I close my eyes momentarily, but when I open them again the walls swell, opening out like a balloon then constricting again, squeezing everyone closer, closer, closer to me until the pressure on my chest is so great I can’t breathe.

“You’re not going to faint, are you?” Sally sounds like she’s talking underwater.