The bus had stopped at the top of the road leading to the village – to the pub – and Louisa had walked briskly. In her mind, now she was walking down the path to the pub, she was retracing hers and Tiff’s steps. If she’d realised it’d be her last time properly spending time with her best friend, she’d have made more of it. The lateness of the afternoon meant it was getting dusky and as Louisa approached the pub its stonework appeared dark, unwelcoming. She had to continue, had to ‘relive’ their actions and pull to the front of her mind what she remembered from that night. It was important to fill in some gaps by being in the same venue – the hypnosis had made her realise she had to be here.

Tiff had been on her mobile as they’d approached the pub from the accommodation block. Louisa remembered the feeling of indignation at the time, and afterwards she’d assumed Tiff was texting Brian, letting him know they were there – so the birthday surprise could be executed without a hitch.

It hadn’t been Brian she’d texted though.

The thought propelled itself into her head and left her puzzled. How did she know that? She couldn’t remember ever asking Tiff. Pushing it away as an unnecessary distraction at this point, Louisa carried on walking towards the pub door, then stopped short. Could she retrace her steps, the night’s events, without physically going inside the pub? She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, have to face any people who might ask her questions. Instead, she headed around the side of the pub to the beer garden, which she felt would be equally sufficient in helping to draw out the memories.

Sitting down on the wooden bench beside the table, Louisa pulled off her shoes, then stood.

Cold grass.

She walked up and down in a small circle, the grass tickling her feet. She stopped and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in through her nose. She visualised the box from her hypnosis session. Visualised herself opening it here, now. A vivid image of the woman she hit in the lane twenty-two years earlier flashed up, inside the darkness of her closed lids.

‘Can I blag one of them off you?’ The voice caused fear to surface again.

And now, Louisa felt a presence; she could sense she was no longer alone. A chill shot through her as she opened her eyes, and slowly turned around.

The woman she’d run over was standing in front of her.

Louisa blinked hard several times but the apparition remained standing, staring at her – an expression that was part amused, part disgusted.

Her mind was confusing the memories, mixing up the images.

It hurt her to take a breath; the pain seemed to crush her ribs, restricting her lungs.

It’s not her. She’s dead. Your mind is playing tricks on you.