She’s not prepared for the surge of love she feels when Jackson begins to cry, and she reaches across to hug him. ‘Remember I told you we’re going to miss him for the rest of our lives,’ she whispers. ‘But as time goes on it will get a little easier. It won’t feel like that now, or even for months, but then one day you’ll find you can think of him with a smile instead of sadness. Does that make sense?’

He nods. ‘I… think so.’

‘Good. Just remember that every time you feel sad.’

‘I wish I could stay here forever,’ he says. ‘I love being with Mum, but when I’m here I feel like Dad’s here too.’

‘I get that,’ Sienna says. She will have to face the reality of selling this house eventually. It’s too big for just one person, was too big even for her and Greg together. Part of her wants to stay, though, for exactly the reason Jackson has mentioned. ‘You know you’re welcome here any time, Jackson. Your mum too.’

‘Thanks. She likes you.’

Sienna’s pleased to hear this. Before she met Abby, she often found it hard to bond with other women. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. They just always misunderstood her, couldn’t get past their assumptions about her. She must love herself, people assumed. Married to a doctor. Either that or they decided she must be cold and selfish for not wanting children. She’d long ago given up explaining to people that being happy without children doesn’t mean she isn’t a caring person, capable of loving others – doing the best she can at being a good stepmother to Jackson is evidence of this.

Her phone rings – a number she doesn’t recognise – and she wonders if it’s the police.

‘Hello?’

‘Sienna? It’s Rosa. I, um, after you left, I had a long think and… oh, well, it’s probably nothing but I did remember something.’

Sienna’s heart races. ‘Hang on one second.’ She turns to Jackson. ‘I just need to take this call – I’ll be back in a minute.’ She leaves him and sits on the stairs, lowering her voice. ‘Sorry. Rosa. What is it?’

‘I don’t think it’s anything, and actually I feel a bit stupid mentioning it, but, well, if it helps you then…’

‘Tell me.’

Rosa takes a deep breath. ‘Okay, well, it was about seven or eight years ago now and Greg had a patient – a young woman. Really young actually, I think she was only twenty or twenty-one at the time. Anyway, she had a lot of appointments with him, but then so did a lot of people, so that’s not unusual. What’s strange was that she suddenly wanted to be seen as a private patient instead of through the NHS. It just made no sense to me.’