Tania sat alone on one of the chairs, watching the others. There was not the least flicker of interest in her eyes. She clasped her hands in her lap, her face wooden, dispassionate. Distant, as though she were somewhere else. A nurse in jeans and a white T-shirt encouraged the children in their activities and from time to time spoke to Tania. But Tania appeared not to hear her. No sound reached Bannerman and the others from the playroom. It was like watching a silent movie.

Doctor Mascoulin said, ‘We employ an integrated team approach here. A nurse will work with the children in the playroom and attempt to introduce various methods or approaches by which both she and we in the observation room can learn about the child. In here our sessions normally involve the parents, and we learn from their experience, too. Unfortunately, in the case of little Tania there are no parents.’ He turned toward Sally. ‘But Mademoiselle Robertson has proved most helpful in this respect already.’

Mascoulin might have been talking about bacteria observed through a microscope for all the empathy he showed, and Bannerman found his apparent disinterest irritating. And yet it was easily possible that this clinical detachment was simply a manifestation of professionalism born of compassion. It was too easy to judge people too quickly.

‘As you can see, Tania has not adapted well to her new envir­onment. To an extent this is to be expected. She has been traumatized, and there is a language barrier. We do not know how much French, if any, she understands. Naturally, for the other children and the staff . . . well, French or perhaps Flemish is the native tongue. We cannot upset the routine for one child, though several of our nurses do speak English and have spent some time with her. Individual attention. But I’m afraid there are limits to what we can do for her here.’

Bannerman was looking at Sally, who seemed intent on the children. He wondered again at her interest in Tania. It had not occurred to him that her feelings for the child might have gone beyond that of an occasional carer. Had she visited more than once? It was odd, he thought, how the child had affected them both.

‘The sooner she can be taken back to Scotland the better,’ Mascoulin was saying. ‘I understand your paper is trying to get her a place at the Brook Clinic in Edinburgh.’

‘Yes,’ Bannerman said. It was the first he’d heard of it.

‘Doctor Brook has some interesting, if rather unusual, approaches to treatment across the autistic spectrum. Of course, there is no general agreement on any one approach . . .’