I turn and start walking, back into the woods, away from the peaceful sound of rushing water, a beautiful sound that once tempted a thirteen-year-old girl to jump in on a wet summer’s day. I stop, and Anna almost collides with me.

‘But if it was pouring with rain,’ I say, ‘why would Izzy go swimming? Why not wait until the sun came out? What was so important?’

‘I don’t know,’ Anna snaps. ‘Don’t you think I’ve asked myself that question a thousand times?’

She stomps ahead of me, and I run to catch up as she crosses the lawn back to the house. Then she holds me, pressing her cheek against mine.

‘Sorry. I’m sorry. This is so hard for me.’

‘I know, Anna. I understand.’

I don’t care what she did as a teenager, I’m not going to judge her for that – I can’t pretend I was a model citizen myself at that age – I care what happened two weeks ago, when my boyfriend crossed her path for the first time in eighteen years. I care about the earthquake I’m certain she and her brother caused.

GRACE

Thursday, 26 April 2018

‘YOU DON’T MIND IF I CARRY ON, DO YOU?’ MRS Burrows says as Anna and I unwrap the lunch we bought at a service station on the way. ‘The family are coming down for the bank holiday. The place has been locked up since Easter. I have masses to do.’

‘We won’t be long. I want Anna to show me the house, if you don’t mind.’

‘I don’t mind in the slightest. I like to have people about the place.’

Anna goes first, and I follow her up a narrow flight of white-painted stairs. The treads are bare and scuffed, worn down by countless feet. There is a lovely, warm, lived-in feel about this house. It is entirely without pretensions. Beautiful objects rub shoulders with bits of tat, stuff that the children made, stuff that means something, recalls a particular moment in time. What a lovely, privileged upbringing those children had. A far cry from mine where nothing of value was bought or kept, where promises were only made to be neglected and broken. I shake the past off my shoulders and focus on why I’m here.

‘When you told me about Nick and Izzy’s relationship, about it becoming a bit blurred around the edges, you meant something, didn’t you?’

‘It was a throwaway remark.’

‘Nothing is throwaway. You implied they were closer than they should have been.’

She turns and looks down at me. ‘It was a feeling, you know, that he felt guilty about something.’

‘Like what? Is there something you’re not telling me? Please, Anna. This could be important.’

‘There’s nothing. As you say, he’s a good man. He wouldn’t deliberately hurt anyone.’

‘So you think he did hurt her? But that it was accidental?’