‘We need to get you some help for this, Katie,’ Bex says, her arm still around her. ‘When did you say that nice Dr Varma is coming down to see you next?’

‘End of next week.’ Kate takes a deep breath, regains some composure. ‘What’s happening to me, Bex? Who’s doing this? I’m losing my mind.’

‘No one’s doing anything to you,’ Bex says. ‘And you’re not losing your mind. You just need to rest.’

‘I don’t know if I can cope,’ Kate says. ‘I see Rob speaking in French on the news and I don’t think he’s been lying to me, or keeping a secret. My first thought is that he’s been replaced by a French-speaking double.’

‘Except that it wasn’t his double, was it, Kate?’ Bex repeats. ‘It was Rob.’

‘But it does happen,’ Kate says. ‘Unrelated people can look identical.’

‘Sure it can happen. My sister looks weirdly like Lily Allen. Amber Heard is the spitting image of Scarlett Johansson. But that was Rob on TV, who we now know speaks good French. Not someone who looks like him.’

Bex walks over to the door, staring at Kate. ‘Come on, you,’ she says, without much conviction. ‘Bedtime.’

‘It’s the only thing Rob’s frightened of,’ Kate adds, still on the sofa. ‘His doppelgänger.’

The day I see him again will be my last.

Sunday

22

Jake

Jake leans over the edge of the lock gate with a long branch and scoops out the last floating item of clothing. It’s one of Kate’s old dresses, grossly misshapen by a bubble of air trapped under the orange material. Until this morning, Jake has never had to divide his worldly possessions into those that float and those that sink. And as he drops the sodden orange dress onto the grass next to the other items he’s retrieved, he hopes he’ll never have to again.

It’s been a long, difficult night. Bruce and Sue did all they could to console him after Strover had taken a statement, but he couldn’t sleep.

‘What are you going to do with them all?’ asks one of the locals, gesturing at the large pile of wet clothing and ruined books. Kate was always complaining the boat was like a waterborne library.

‘Chuck them,’ Jake says, quietly. Everything except Kate’s orange dress. He’ll keep that. She used to wear it to Womad, their nearest festival. Before they could no longer afford to go.