“Leanne will be pleased we’re back,” Al says, but her voice is flat. She’s even more disappointed than I am. She came to Nepal to try to escape the spectre that was her relationship with Simone, but since her session with Isis, she’s been forced to deal with other ghosts she’d rather forget.

“You can put your weight on me.” I take her elbow and, slowly, we revolve so we’re facing back up the hill.

It took us an hour to get part way down the mountain, but it takes us twice as long to get back up. By the time we reach the gates of Ekanta Yatra, we’re both shivering and Al is gasping for breath and wincing with every step. We knock at the gates for what feels like forever, and are finally welcomed in by Johan, who takes one look at Al’s ankle then hoists her over his shoulder – backpack and all – as though she’s feather light, and carries her into the house and through to the kitchen, where Sally, Leanne and Paula are washing up the breakfast dishes. Leanne takes one look at Al and her face lights up, but then crumples with worry as Johan eases her into a seat.

“Al, what happened?” Leanne shoves me out of the way in her desperation to get to her, and crouches besides the chair. The skin beneath her eyes is puffy and swollen.

“I twisted my ankle. It’s a mudbath out there.” Al peels off her waterproof and drops it to the floor then looks back up at Leanne, her face creased with concern. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”

“I’m fine. I was just upset because I thought I’d never see you ag—” She presses a hand to her mouth as though she’s just said something she shouldn’t.

“God, you’re a softie.” Al reaches for a hug and Leanne wraps her slender arms around her and clings to her, closing her red-rimmed eyes as she nestles her chin into Al’s shoulder. She looks simultaneously delighted and relieved, like someone hugging a long-lost relative in an airport arrival lounge, not someone who said goodbye to a friend a few hours ago.

“Oh, no.” Leanne pulls away from Al, her red-rimmed eyes wide and worried behind her glasses as she glances up at Johan. “If the weather’s really bad, will Gabe and Ruth be able to get back from Pokhara okay?”

He crosses his arms over his broad chest and his lips tighten ever so slightly. “Gabe’s done the route so many times, he could do it blindfolded. He’ll find an alternative route. Anyway” – he turns away – “I need to get out to the garden. If I don’t put some straw on the veg, it’ll rot.”