She recedes again as my eyes travel the lush, silken grass under the bay window. Maybe she’ll just let me lie down here instead, just drift off blanketed by petals, just so I can be near her…

‘OK? Marie?’ The cat blinks as she coughs, looking at me expectantly. And I notice the thorny rose bush set squat and hefty next to the jasmine, dead flower heads snapped off into a neat pile around its base.

‘Will you … will you at least tell her how much I miss her?’

I cough as I say it, rather than let her hear the cracks in my voice; the cat suddenly gone, scooped from under my fingers back into the clutch of hers, as contented there as she was below my hand. That’s the real problem with cats, I remember as I stand, turning and walking away in one fluid, swift movement. Soft and fluffy as they might be, they can never be trusted to remain loyal.

Only once I’ve made it back to the road do I hear her let herself back into the house. I don’t have to look to know whatever remained of the jasmine has been scattered all over the porch by the slam of the door.

‘This the Jolleys?’ I jump as a postman shouts from across the road, arms laden with packages. ‘Is this the Jolleys, love? I’m looking for Brambledown Cottage.’

‘Yeah,’ I mutter, sidestepping away from the gate as he catches up to me.

‘Thanks, pet,’ he says, pushing the gate open with his back. ‘Makes a change from my usual route, all these driveways and gardens and whatnot. Just put some bloody numbers on the houses and we’d be sorted, wouldn’t we?’

He pauses, his body holding the gate open.

‘Or some mailboxes at the top so we don’t spend all our time walking up and down … You alright, pet?’

I nod and turn, hurrying away down the lane, breaking into a jog as I note the time. Country lanes become wider avenues and finally roads as I speed up, racing to the station, every thud of my 192heart wiping away the pain of the visit, stroke by stroke, breath by breath, gasp by gasp.

I reach the carriage just as the doors are closing, flinging myself into a seat. The train is deserted, that curious middle-of-the-day emptiness that only makes sense once you realise these towns were only built for people to sleep in. Something else Carly would never have known, much less understood. I have to find a way to belong, and Marie doesn’t belong here. But maybe Katie will, one day, if I can just bring myself to leave her alone?