‘She ain’t right. And what she said in the garden. She’s knocked off! This whole place . . . it’s . . .’

Ignoring Jess, Morag thumps past her and glances into the living room. ‘All right, Blossom!’

Upon seeing the clean surfaces and washed dishes inside the kitchen, the night worker raises her chin and snorts. A condition of order and cleanliness she sets about destroying by throwing down a carrier bag bulging with shopping. Following the disdainful, entitled dumping of the contents of the supermarket bag upon the counters, Morag tosses down her rucksack, phone and a new magazine and reclaims her territory.

Before following Morag into the kitchen, Jess looks nervously in the direction of the living room. From this angle, with the afternoon light searing the broad windows at the back, she can’t be certain which way Flo is looking, whether at her or into the garden.

From the kitchen, Morag gleefully adds insult to injury. ‘I told you she don’t like no one going outside with her.’

Jess crowds the older woman. ‘No, you bloody didn’t.’

Morag turns aside to avoid Jess’s glare. ‘Didn’t I?’

Jess jabs a pointed finger at the front door. ‘No! Cus you was too busy running through that bloody door this morning to tell me anything useful. How often’s she taken outside?’

‘You take her out and leave her. Or else you know about it! Then she’s away with the fairies, happy.’

‘She’s abusive. Violent.’

‘Dementia with Lewy bodies ain’t no picnic for no one.’

Jess checks herself, then the time, snatches up her bag and races from the kitchen. In the hallway, she looks once more at Flo, sitting motionless in the living room. It’s still too hard to determine the position of the client’s head. ‘Bye, Flo.’

Flo doesn’t twitch.

From the kitchen doorway, hardly concealing a smirk at Flo’s rejection, Morag watches Jess let herself out. As she turns the bulk of her body to the fridge she issues a final contribution to the shift handover. ‘Don’t forget you’s on nights tomorrow. Sheila’s sent you a text.’

When the front door closes behind Jess and she escapes the dark chaos of Flo’s maze-like home, sunlight explodes upon her face, startling her. She gulps at the fresh air as if breaking from cold, black water. Stepping out from under the porch canopy and into the enchanted idyll of Eadric, she shields her eyes and notices the elderly woman across the lane. She’s standing in her front garden, watching Jess. The woman remains as silent and still as a mime or statue. A tall, angular figure wearing a wide-brimmed sun hat. It’s the grandmother Jess saw bidding goodbye to her beautiful family earlier. Glimmering through the shadow of the hat’s brim, exposed teeth shape an unpleasant grin.