Griff managed Liv like managing a baby, following as she wandered through the hotel, touching things, and went into Alex’s room. She lay huddled on his bed and wouldn’t let her husband touch her. Angrily, she pushed him off. Bea, crippled by exhaustion, left him to it. She and Dan were practical. They did the minimum. They saved their strength. The talking and coping with her parents was over for the day.

Dan slept, but she did not. She could hear her mother crying through the walls but after a while even that stopped. She sheltered herself in the sweetness of the sound of Dan’s breathing as he slept. She welcomed the air from the open window and the outdoor, night-time smells. She listened to the peace. Shock eased like a boot lifting from her chest. The harshness and horror softened. She cried, tears falling, not stopping. The moon rose, slowly, above the line of the trees until, high in the sky, it shone down onto her. It wasn’t she who lived a broken life. It was not her body in a hospital basement. Her brother had gone. She had lost him. She was filled with love. But he had gone, and could not feel it.

The next morning, even as she woke, the boot came down on her chest again. It was grey and chilly, the sort of weather that makes skin feel cold to touch, like a reminder of death. She and Dan got up together, taking turns in the bathroom. As they came down the stairs, they saw Griff standing behind the reception desk.

‘All right, here’s the thing,’ he said. ‘We’re going back to London today, your mother and myself.’

High on sleeplessness, Bea stared.

‘Today?’ said Dan.

‘Your mother needs to see Richard.’ Richard was their doctor; first-name terms, drugs on tap. ‘And you two should move out.’

‘Out of the hotel? Why?’ said Bea.

‘You may as well.’

She thought of Alex’s room. Leaving would be like discarding him. Griff looked around the hall.

‘It’s a shithole.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘Just move out,’ he said. ‘I’ll pay.’

‘No, thanks.’

‘Just move.’

‘No,’ said Bea.

‘Fine. Whatever you want. We’ll be back in a few days. We can speak on the phone whenever.’

Dan was about to say something.

‘You don’t mind that we’re leaving,’ said Griff. It was a statement not a question.

Bea didn’t know if she minded or not, she was amazed.

‘OK,’ said Dan. ‘Is there anything else we can do?’

‘Funny you should say that. I’ll need you to collect the rent from next door.’ He came round the desk, looking about for his keys, impatient to go.

‘What rent?’ said Bea.

‘What?’ said Griff, distracted or pretending to be.

‘Sorry, Griff,’ said Dan, ‘what rent from next door?’