The house looked like any other on the street – a single-storey structure that stood in its own small plot of land, with a patchy, yellowing lawn and a few scraggly plants in pots out front. She paused by the gate, nervous about what she would find inside. She tried to imagine what it must be like to carry a child, give birth, all those hours spent nurturing, feeding, loving, only to have your baby snatched from you. The panic. The desperation. The terror. Hours spent waiting, hoping for the best. Then to discover somebody had snuffed out its life by deliberately dumping it into the sea, where it had been left to die. What could she say to make them feel any better? What could she do to take away their pain? Nothing. But they wanted to see her. To thank her. But what had she done? No matter how hard she had tried she hadn’t been able to save that child’s life.

She took a deep breath, opened the gate and approached the porch. She ran her hands through her hair, and nervously bit her lip as she rang the bell and waited. A moment later a young dark-haired man – short, stocky and muscular – opened the door. Kate saw the recognisable signs of grief etched into his face: circles of red ringed around the eyes, pale skin, haunted eyes.

‘I’m Joe,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘We’re so pleased you could come, Dr – it is doctor, isn’t it? – Dr Cramer. This way, my wife is inside.’

All the blinds of the house had been drawn, but a couple of table lights cast an artificial glow over the interior. In the corner, in a wicker rocking chair, sat a pale, thin woman with hair the colour of straw. She gripped the sides of the chair as she rocked back and forth, staring at the ground as she did so.

‘Susan? Susan?’ said Joe, gently as if he were trying to wake his wife from a dream. ‘Dr Cramer is here to see us.’

There was no response except for the creak of the rocking chair moving back and forth over the wooden floor.

‘You’ll have to excuse my wife,’ he said. ‘As you can imagine it’s been a tough few days for us.’

‘I completely understand. I can’t tell you how I was – how sorry I am.’

The air hung heavy with grief.

‘Can I get you a drink? Some Coke, water, beer?’

‘Yes, water would be great.’

‘I won’t be a second,’ said Joe, as he disappeared into the narrow kitchen at the back of the house. ‘So you’re a doctor. Where do you work? In a hospital?’

‘Oh, I’m not a proper doctor,’ she said, suddenly feeling like a fraud. ‘The title – which I have to say I don’t really use now – refers to a doctorate I did when I was studying. I was a forensic anthropologist – I worked closely with the police here in the city – but I’m a photographer now.’

‘I see,’ said Joe, handing her a glass of water. ‘That sounds interesting. Where did you –‘

A harsh, angry voice from the corner of the room stopped him.

‘So you couldn’t have saved my baby’s life anyway.’

‘Susan – you know Dr –‘

‘She just said she isn’t a doctor.’ She said looking up, her eyes full of tears of fury.

‘I know, Susan, but I’m sure she did everything she –‘

‘She did nothing,’ she said, spitting out the words. ‘She let our baby die.’

Joe walked over to his wife and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

‘Honey, I know it’s hard, but now is not the time to –‘

‘To what? What Joe?’ She turned and looked at Kate. ‘We asked you here because we thought you were what you said you were. We wanted to thank you for trying to help Sara-Jane. But now we know that you didn’t help at all.’

Kate knew that the distraught mother’s reaction was normal. She was angry with herself and was just looking for someone else to blame. Yet at that moment Kate wished she had never come. She should have sent them a card, some flowers maybe. But she wasn’t ready for this.

‘Look – I think it’s best if I go,’ she said, turning towards the door. ‘I am sorry for what happened. And Mrs Gable? I’m sorry you thought I was a medic, but I really did everything I could to bring your daughter back.’

‘Dr – Dr Cramer,’ said Joe, lowering his voice and turning towards Kate. ‘Please forgive my wife. She’s not herself. Perhaps if we –‘ He gestured towards the door.

‘Goodbye, Mrs Gable. And sorry.’

There was no response.

Joe and Kate walked out of the house in silence. On the lawn he stopped and apologised once again.

‘Really, there is no need,’ said Kate. ‘When I worked closely with the police I talked to many bereaved family members, Mr Gable, and I can assure you every one of them felt as you wife feels today. Angry. Guilty. Sick to the stomach with misery. I just wish there was more I could do to help.’

‘I’m actually very worried about her,’ said Joe.

‘Losing any one is hard enough, but to lose a baby. I don’t know how I would cope.’ She didn’t want to remind him about the manner of his daughter’s death. Kate thought about the tiny bud inside her and ran a hand over her abdomen.

‘It’s not just that,’ he said. ‘The truth is, in the past, Susan had a history of mental illness. Anorexia in her teens, self-harming too. Ever since I knew her she has been on some sort of medication. But she seemed so much better with Sara-Jane. Like a different person. But now –‘

His shoulders started to shake as he tried to suppress his emotions.

‘If I ever come across the fucker who – who did this, I don’t think I’ll be able to answer for my actions.’

Kate placed a hand on his forearm.

‘I know it must be difficult for you, but I’m certain the person who took your daughter away from you will be brought to justice.’

‘You are?’

‘Yes,’ she said, realising that she was anything but confident. As she said goodbye she found it difficult to meet his eye.

6

Cassie Veringer stretched out her right hand, almost feeling the cool tiles before she actually touched them. Her fingers traced the diamond pattern on the bathroom wall, moving over the ridges and grooves. The layout of the room was so familiar to her – she was sure she could picture it in her head just as well, if not better, than a sighted person – that she didn’t need to use her hands to get around. But it was force of habit.