‘Mum –’

‘Go-away-I-want-him,’ said Liv, blinking like a stroke victim.

Bea clenched and unclenched her fists. ‘He’s not here,’ she said. ‘He’s dead.’

There was a glass of water by the bed. She handed it to her but Liv shook her head. Anti-anxiety drugs would suppress her respiratory system but they would be unlikely to kill her.

‘What have you taken?’ said Bea. ‘Just Valium?’

Liv focused on Bea. Her face was dead, but behind her eyes, she was all movement inside herself, like a wasp in a glass.

‘You hate me,’ she said.

‘Drink some water,’ said Bea. ‘We have to go to the police station.’

She helped her mother sit upright. ‘Can you stand?’ she said.

She got her up, and walked her to the open window. Liv, a graduate of countless yoga classes, breathed deeply in, through her nose, staring without focusing at the trees. Bea watched her. She could easily have pushed her from the window. Everyone was waiting downstairs.

‘Have you eaten anything?’ she asked. Of course she hadn’t. She didn’t eat at the best of times. ‘You need to eat.’

‘I don’t want to,’ said Liv.

‘I don’t care.’

‘It’s impossible for a boy to have a beautiful mother,’ said Liv, swaying.

‘What?’

Bea stepped back sharply. She was knocked breathless by a pain in her head. She left Liv standing at the window and went into the bathroom. It felt as if two forks were being pressed into the soft skin of her temple. She had to put her hands up to check there was nothing there. She circled her fingers over the jabbing pain. It was alarming. It wasn’t like a headache, or any pain she’d ever known. She rubbed at her head. With half-closed eyes, she felt for the tap, and turned it on. Distraught sister dies of brain haemorrhage, she thought, as she splashed water on her face. She reached for a towel. The pain had gone. She hung up the towel, and went back to the bedroom. Liv was standing where Bea had left her, crying.

‘You can’t be late for the police,’ said Bea.

‘Don’t push me around.’

‘Come on.’

She told her to undress, and called down to Dan to bring her suitcase up to them.

‘You all right up there?’ said Dan.

‘On our way,’ said Bea.

Holding her breath, she helped Liv undress, and into the shower, and turned away while she washed. When Liv came out of the shower she handed her one of the new towels, tugging off the label, which dug into her fingers. Coming back to herself, Liv looked disdainfully at the towel in her hands as if she could smell the supermarket on it.

‘What’s this?’ she said.

‘A towel.’

‘It’s ghastly.’ With sudden petulance she threw it to the floor. She began to cry again.