The steam from the bath clogged Louisa’s lungs. She’d only been in the hot, deep water for ten minutes before feeling closed in, claustrophobic. She was suffocating. Water sloshed up and over the edges as she stood up and stepped out of the bath, grabbing a towel and escaping the steam-filled room to the bedroom. She stood breathing the cooler air in deeply through her nose and out her mouth. So much for relaxing.

She’d paint her toenails – she couldn’t remember the last time she’d pampered herself. After drying and dressing, Louisa opened the drawer on her side of the king-size divan and began rummaging for nail varnish. The rubbish she collected was ridiculous. The drawer was intended for make-up, toiletries and perfume. Those things were there, but there were also receipts, old birthday cards, odd bits of jewellery, purses she no longer used, diaries … all sorts. But no nail varnish. She tutted. Clearing the drawer was one of those jobs she always promised herself she’d do on a rainy afternoon, but there was never the time.

Well, she had time now. She yanked the entire drawer out and emptied it onto her side of the bed. Now she had to sort it.

Louisa’s hair had all but drip-dried an hour later. An hour after beginning the drawer cleanout, her bed was still strewn with crap because she’d been sidetracked. Cross-legged on the rug, Louisa sat with a box. Originally, it had contained perfume and body lotion. Now it contained photographs. Ones she’d forgotten she’d saved. One by one, Louisa picked up the photos and studied them. There were twenty-four in total. The amount that would’ve been on a roll of film. She’d been embarrassed about her Pentax camera at the time – a lot of people had digital cameras, but Louisa’s parents didn’t believe in buying into all the new technology and didn’t see the point in changing their 35mm. Don’t fix what ain’t broke, her dad had often repeated. So she’d ‘borrowed’ the camera to take to college, take snaps of her college mates. To take pictures of Oliver really.

Louisa struggled to put names to those pictured. Apart from her and Oliver. They looked so young and naive. But what was troubling was how gaunt she appeared in many of the photos. It was then she realised the photos spanned a year, and it was the latter part of that year where she seemed the worst.

Louisa jumped as she heard a car door bang. Bundling the pictures back in the box, she got up to look out the window.

Tiff and Noah were back. A leaden sensation filled her stomach.

She hadn’t even managed to have a nap.

21

THE LIST

‘Hello, little one!’ Louisa took Noah from his car seat and cuddled him in to her. ‘Thanks for having him, Tiff.’