‘Sorry, there’s no sign of it. I’m sure it’s long gone. Come on, let’s put dinner…’

Kirsty let out a yelp and jumped backwards onto the bed. Jamie spun round. A brown spider was scuttling across the carpet towards him.

‘Catch it!’ Kirsty yelled.

He crouched and cupped his hand over it, then picked it up and took it over to the window. He could feel its feathery legs wriggling against his palm. With his free hand he opened the window – breathing in another lungful of that sickly sweet, foul smell – and tossed the spider down into the garden. He walked towards Kirsty.

She shrank away and pointed towards the bathroom. ‘Go and wash your hands before you touch me.’

‘It won’t have given me any contagious diseases, Kirsty.’

‘Just wash them. Please. I can’t bear the thought that it’s been on your skin.’

‘OK, OK.’

He washed his hands halfheartedly, dried them, then walked back into the bedroom. His stomach growled. It was nine-thirty and he hadn’t eaten all day.

‘I’m going to put dinner on, OK? What do you want?’

‘I don’t mind.’

In the kitchen, he opened the fridge and stuck his head inside. Recently, they had been living on pre-prepared meals from Sainsbury’s, with a side-serving of frozen chips or vegetables. Jamie pulled out a vegetable lasagne, shook some chips onto a baking tray and turned the oven on. Before closing the fridge he took out a beer and cracked it open. He went over and sat beside Kirsty in front of the TV.

‘Was it the same spider?’ Kirsty asked.

He had no idea. ‘I think so.’

‘You’re not just saying that?’

‘No. I’m sure it was.’

Thirty minutes later he crossed to the kitchen to check if the dinner was ready. Not quite. He took another beer out of the fridge.

‘Are you having another drink?’ said Kirsty disapprovingly.

‘Well, I’m drinking for two now.’

She tutted.

‘Actually, I’m celebrating – celebrating Paul’s recovery.’ He paused. ‘Assuming he has recovered.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘He just seemed a bit odd. Cold. He didn’t seem particularly pleased to see me.’

‘You can’t expect him to be exactly as he was before the accident – not straight away. He’s probably experiencing a form of shock. And having all these people expecting him to be just as he was before the accident – I expect he feels a bit confused and pressurised. Like you said earlier, it must be quite overwhelming.’

‘I suppose so. I’ll go and see him during the next few days.’ He sipped his beer. ‘I can entertain him with tales of all that’s been going on here. Not that he was very interested when I tried to tell him today.’

‘I bet he’ll be really angry with Chris.’