Alex wants to come with her but this is something she has to do on her own. She thinks of calling a cab but decides in the end that it will be faster in Gerry. It is a crisp evening, the streets long clear of rush-hour bluster and traffic fumes, nothing impeding the journey but the odd traffic light. As she climbs the hill into Kingsdown, the solemnity of the moment hits her. In the next few minutes everything she has worked for, her hopes, her fears for the future may well collide. The bonds between mother and daughter will tighten or irrevocably break and it is for this reason that her legs feel emptied as she walks towards the entrance to the flat and her finger shakes as it presses the video entry phone. A call and a text have both gone unanswered. She waits, hardly daring to breathe. Finally there’s a crackle and a voice says, ‘What are you doing here?’ It takes what feels like forever for Nevis to buzz her up. She closes the door behind her, waiting for the click, then treads over a pile of junk mail and heads for the stairs. What she sees on the second-floor landing makes her gasp. Nevis stands waiting for her, clad in a dressing gown, with her short dark hair plastered, dripping to her head, looking so much like Zoe all those years ago, pulled soaking from the river, that it is as if the two have become the same person.

‘You’ve seen the news on TV about the body at Three Lakes?’

She nods. Her voice is a whisper. Honor catches her daughter’s eye for an instant before Nevis looks away. Even as a little girl she never did like anyone to notice when she’d been crying. ‘Someone texted me earlier.’

‘They didn’t name the dead woman on the TV.’

‘That’s why no one watches TV news any more.’

Honor follows her daughter into the living room, the girl keeping her back to her.

‘Do you want some tea?’ The same flattened tone, one hand absent-mindedly rubbing the groove at the back of her head.

Honor wonders if she dare approach. ‘I want to know if you’re OK. Do you – did you – know her?’

‘Natasha. She was a friend of Satnam’s and the other girl, Jessica.’ There is something so resigned, so sad in her daughter’s voice that it is as much as Honor can do not to break down.

‘Oh Nevis, my love.’ Her daughter stiffens and sways a little. A shudder passes through her body and becomes a tremble. An arm reaches for the kitchen counter, the hand fumbling for a spot to settle as she tries to steady herself, her whole body shaking as though an earthquake were happening beneath only her feet.

And then she goes down.