Kate smiles at the thought. Dr Ajay Varma, a neuropsychiatrist, often talks about his family, how well his two young daughters are doing at school, his parents back in south India. He’s been overseeing her recovery since she left hospital, looking out for any lasting post-traumatic effects of the accident – mood swings, anxiety, depression. It all seems a bit unnecessary, but Rob insists, arranging and paying for his visits. She doesn’t mind as he also happens to be a really nice guy.

‘I’ll give him a call,’ Rob says, ‘see if he can come over this afternoon.’

‘Are you sure?’ Dr Varma’s never mentioned to her that he stays down here. But then she’s never asked.

‘It’s important. You’re doing so well. We don’t want any setbacks.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do. And I love you.’

‘Rob?’ she says, eyes closed. She so wants to build on his new-found openness, get him to confide in her again, talk some more about his fear of doubles. Make things more equal between them.

‘Yes?’

She takes a deep breath. It suddenly all seems too much. Her funny turn feels like a step back and he’s in carer mode again, seeing her questions as intrusive and deflecting them.

It’ll wait. She gives him a defeated smile. ‘I love you too.’

5

Kate

‘It still doesn’t feel right,’ Rob says.

This time it’s him who’s drumming his fingers on the Tesla’s steering wheel. They are back in a car park, at Truro railway station. The evening flight from Newquay to London was full.

‘Honestly, I’m feeling so much better,’ Kate says, stroking Stretch on her lap.

After the results from the headset came through on his phone, she talked Rob into returning to London and said that she would drive him to the station. He was reluctant, suggesting he took a taxi, but he eventually came around to the idea, particularly as it turns out that Dr Varma is down for the weekend and has agreed to visit her this afternoon.

‘Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?’ he asks.

Despite his genuine concern, Kate can already sense Rob’s restlessness, his desire to be back on the train to London. ‘I’ll be fine. Dr Varma can look after me.’

‘Just remember to keep the house locked,’ he says.

She sighs, turning to gaze out the window. Sometimes she thinks he forgets they’re in Cornwall not London.

‘I was going to give Bex a call,’ she says. ‘See if she fancies coming down for a few days.’

Bex is her best friend, a bridge between her previous life and this one.

‘Good idea. We like Bex.’ He pauses, looking at her. ‘It’s all coming back, isn’t it?’

‘What?’ she asks, searching his face.

‘That brilliant brain of yours.’

‘Not if my painting’s anything to go by.’