Perhaps Hessel was trying. Perhaps it was the beginning of something new.

This was what Cathy remembered later – that she had thought that. That she had actually thought that.

‘Well,’ she’d said. ‘Good luck with that.’

‘Cheers, sister,’ he’d said. And she’d got up and left the room.

25

I lay on the tangled grass in the dark for an hour, too sick and too heavy to move, giving up on everything and everyone, most of all myself. But eventually sense kicked in and, standing up, I shook myself down like a horse standing among too many flies, then took myself back inside and tucked myself into Catharina’s bed.

In the morning the first thing I did when I opened my eyes was check my messages. No reception and nothing from Nassim, and impossible to tell whether my message had landed or been deleted. It was hell.

I emptied the mouse traps – two babies this time – and then I studied, and then I checked my messages again. Still nothing. I packed Bette up into the car and checked again; still nothing. I delivered Bette to the waiting room at the doctor’s and went to the toilet to check again and, despite the consistent reception from being in town, nothing. And still no clue as to the fate of my message.

I came out again and the doctor, a slender brown-and-grey-haired woman in an interesting purple-knit dress, was calling Bette’s name.

‘Come on, Grandma,’ I said, touching her shoulder. ‘You’re on.’

Bette roused herself and looked around as though she had forgotten everything and anything up until this point.

‘The doctor, Grandma – in you go.’

Bette looked at the doctor as though she’d never seen her before, but then she seemed to come to and found her feet.

‘I’ll stay here, Grandma,’ I said.

But Bette turned and said, ‘Don’t be silly, come along. I want to introduce you.’ So I followed her to where the doctor stood waiting by an open door.

‘This way, Bette, come in. So good to see you. And this is . . .’

‘Anna, my beautiful granddaughter,’ said Bette, proudly.

‘Lovely to meet you, Anna,’ said the doctor, holding out her hand. ‘I’m Geraldine.’

‘Nice to meet you, too.’

‘Anna’s going to be a doctor,’ said Bette.

‘Crikey,’ said Geraldine. ‘Well, good luck with that. Anything you want to know . . . although not knowing what you’re in for is probably the best approach.’ She turned to look at Bette, who was arranging herself into a chair. I sat down in the seat next to her. ‘Now, Bette,’ Geraldine said. ‘Leonie says she thinks this burn needs looking at again.’

‘Okay.’

‘Remind me, how did this happen?’

‘The stove.’

‘Okay. How exactly?’

‘Oh, you know. Just a silly accident. A stupid old lady moment.’

Geraldine began scrolling on the computer screen in front of her. ‘Okay. Well, before I get you to unwrap Leonie’s handiwork, let’s see where we’re up to with you. So before Leonie dragged you in last week so we could have a look at this burn, we hadn’t actually seen you for a while. You missed your last two appointments. And the last time before that,’ Geraldine put her head to the side as she scrolled, ‘there was that nasty bump on your head. How’s that going?’