The figure acquires more detail the harder she looks. Impossibly, Flo is there and dressed in her gown from the night before. Upright with her arms raised from her sides and her palms uppermost, her feet hover a short distance from the soil and patchy weeds.

Izzy’s eager fidgeting to see more of the figure wakes Jess, who comes round, blinking. She looks at Izzy then follows her daughter’s eyes.

When Jess sees Flo in the distance, framed between the two buildings, the elderly woman’s spindly arms are drawing circles in the air. The aged face has tilted back and her mouth either gulps at the sky or cries for help.

Bewildered by the apparition, Jess stands up. She tugs open the top window. From the distance, a piped and bony melody pierces the open slot in which drizzle and cold air spray.

‘You mind?’ a gruff voice announces from behind her seat.

The bus lurches, tipping Jess forward then planting her back in her seat. The figure of Flo vanishes from sight as the bus ambles on. Behind Jess, the irritated passenger stands up and slams shut the little window.

Jess turns to her daughter and for a few moments she can’t speak. She swallows to regain some control of her voice. ‘Did you see…’

But Izzy has lowered her face and is now engrossed in inspecting the little unicorn that dangles from the strap of her rucksack.

26

For once, she’s wearing something other than the green uniform she throws on for work. Smart trousers and a blouse. Jess may also have found time to wash and style her hair but her tiredness can only be part-masked by make-up. The transformation, nonetheless, she hopes will bring her closer to becoming the legal tenant of this empty living room, with its smart laminate floorboards and pristine magnolia walls and ceilings.

She softly approaches the white curtains that drift over the balcony doors. Outside are a myriad trees, an expanse of lush grass, a brightly coloured playground. The new development is set far from a main road. No dogs are barking themselves hoarse and mad. No scooters perpetually chainsaw the air, and the ceiling isn’t vibrating with a neighbour’s thumping beats or feckless feet. Jess discreetly dabs a tear from the corner of an eye.

Izzy rushes into the room excitedly, her shoes booming. ‘I want the front room, Mummy!’

A female estate agent, who stands in silence, out of the way against a wall, smiles at the little girl’s elation. ‘I think we have a winner, Mum.’

Jess kneels down and accepts her daughter’s eager embrace. And as she strokes the fringe out of Izzy’s animated eyes, she is both surprised and elated by this impulsive demonstration of love from her daughter. She’s missed the attention. ‘There enough room in there for all your toys?’

‘They’ll go in here too.’