Anna leans towards him. ‘I’ve signed a disclaimer; you don’t need to worry—’

‘I’m not worried about being sued.’ Oliver is indignant. ‘I’m worried about you. You haven’t seen Eva yet. We agreed.’

‘I’ll speak to her first thing, but I’m okay. You want me to trust you, Oliver, and I do. Please trust me. Everything was fine. I’m fine. Let me be the one to try again, not you.’

Oliver is torn between his head and his heart. He sees Clem press her finger to her lips. He sees her lying delirious in a hospice bed. He remembers his despair.

‘Okay,’ he eventually says. ‘Tomorrow. If Eva is happy, you can try again tomorrow.’

Chapter Forty-Six

Anna

It is the morning light pushing through the window that stirs me. Ever since the accident I’ve been waking every thirty minutes, skin clammy, heart pounding, but last night I slept for seven hours straight.

Adam.

I rush through to his room, praying that the trial has somehow brought Adam back. Properly back.

It hasn’t.

Luis is writing his notes.

‘Is everything okay?’

‘No change,’ Luis says cheerfully. ‘Eva says she’ll see you at ten.’

I am hopeful I’ll be allowed to take part in the trial again. My headache has eased and for the first time in days I feel able to cope – seeing Adam has given me strength. I wander outside. The sun casts sparkles onto the aquamarine ocean. It is only nine o’clock but there are children digging in the sand with brightly coloured spades, parents stretched out on candy-striped beach towels.

I sit on a large flat rock, stretching my legs out in front of me. A girl of about eighteen hurries past me, head down, selfconsciously clutching a towel against her sarong-covered body. I remember how anxious I had been that first day on the beach when I felt Adam’s eyes on me. Worried he was judging me, the girl with cellulite speckling her thighs, clad in a black swimming costume amongst a sea of neon bikinis. I was convinced that if I could lose ten pounds, my life would be perfect. If only my body were my sole worry now. It’s Adam’s body, limp and unresponsive, which makes my blood run cold. Yesterday, seeing him, hearing him, touching him… It’s all so hard to process.

My mobile has been off all night – I switch it on and call Nell.

‘It worked,’ I blurt out before I have even said hello.

‘Fuck. Tell me everything.’