Mike had already moved back to London. After the transplant, he’d made a good recovery, and woken up the next day lucid and remorseful, but we’d agreed our marriage was one more thing that could not be saved. Like with the house, there was no way back from everything that had happened. He was living in a flat not far from where we’d be, back at his old job. His boss seemed rather embarrassed that they’d ever doubted him. Karen and Jake were back in Birmingham and I didn’t know when I’d see them next. I’d heard Jake wasn’t getting over the transplant so well, that he’d been in and out of hospital a few times. He was on bail now until his trial, and I hoped his sentence would be light, given what he’d done for us. I tried not to feel guilty.

As for Callum, his trial was coming up in the autumn, not just for the rape of Karen, but for killing Martha too. Since it was a murder charge, he hadn’t got bail and was currently on remand in a London prison. I’d have to see him, and Karen, in court, and I was steeling myself for that. I’d been lucky not to face charges myself, although DC Devine had made it clear he knew I’d deceived him with my ever-changing story.

Jodi had named her son Eric – a Teutonic name – and cut herself off from all of us. My baby gift had come back return to sender. I wasn’t sure if I would ever see her again. I wanted to tell her I didn’t blame her, that none of us had seen what Callum was. But I wasn’t sure she’d listen.

I gave Cassie a squeeze. ‘Have you started packing? The van will be here soon.’

She gave a small eye-roll, and I was happy to see it, a trace of her old self. ‘We’ve ages yet.’

‘Not really, it’ll take hours to sort this place.’ There was a crunch of gravel in the drive, and I looked up to see the large moving van manoeuvring in, and beside the driver, waving to us, was Bill. ‘He’s here,’ I said to Cassie. ‘Come on, let’s get ready.’

Jodi

‘Shh, shh, baby. It’s OK. Mummy’s here.’

It was early – before 5 a.m. still. Time had lost meaning now it was just her and the baby in the house. Her son. Finally, after so many years. At the sound of his snuffling cries, she eased him from his crib, so close to her own bed she could feel his breath on her outstretched hand, and put him to her breast. A smile broke over her face as he tugged, and latched. Her baby. Fifteen years after she’d expected him, here he was.