“I know you care about me,” said Jamie, his face creasing with pain. “I never doubted that. That wasn’t the problem.”

Frankenstein didn’t respond; it felt like a crack had appeared in the high walls the teenager had put up around himself, and he didn’t want to do or say anything that stopped it from widening.

“I mourned him,” said Jamie, his voice little more than a whisper. “My dad. We buried him, and we mourned him, and for a long time I was lost. Then you saved me from Alexandru, and brought me here, and I found a place where I felt like I belonged. I didn’t think I’d ever trust anyone again, but I trusted you, and I trusted Henry Seward, and Cal Holmwood. Paul Turner. Even Valentin, for God’s sake. But then you disappeared, and Henry was taken, and Cal died. I got you back, but for a long time you weren’t the same. You know that, right?”

Frankenstein nodded. “I know.”

“My dad turning out to be alive wasn’t the problem. It really wasn’t. What killed me was finding out that you and Larissa had known about it. I was so angry with you both, so angry that I could barely speak, could barely be around anyone, but what did it get me? I lost you both. That’s all. I couldn’t apologise to Larissa because she was gone, and I couldn’t bring myself to apologise to you, even though I knew I should. I just couldn’t bear the thought of being let down again. Can you understand that?”

Frankenstein’s heart thudded with pain. “Yes,” he said. “Better than you know, Jamie. I understand hating yourself, and I understand putting walls up so you can’t be hurt. But it was your grandfather who showed me that living like that isn’t really living. Yes, other people can hurt you, and sometimes they do, whether they mean to or not. But you can’t exist alone.”

“Kate’s hurt,” said Jamie. “Larissa is back, but she isn’t really. If we survive Carcassonne, she’ll go, and it will be only a matter of time until Matt goes too. My mum is all I’ve got left.”

Frankenstein took another step forward. “That’s not true,” he said. “Not unless you want it to be. I’m here, and so are Ellison and Qiang, and Paul, and Angela Darcy, and Jack Williams, and dozens of other people who care about you. You’re not alone. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that it would be easier if you were, but you’re not. After today, you’re going to have to start accepting that.”

Jamie grunted. “If we’re still alive.”

“That’s right,” said Frankenstein. “I’ve told you everything I came here to tell you, Jamie. Is there anything you want to say?”

Jamie smiled. “See you in the hangar?”

Frankenstein grunted with laughter. “Indeed you will.”

He turned towards the door. As he took hold of the handle, Jamie said his name, and he turned back to see the teenager looking at him with an expression of affection that momentarily warmed his heart.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” said Jamie.

“For what?”

“Caring enough to say what you said.”

Frankenstein smiled.

“It’s all right, son,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “It’s going to be all right.”

A wry smile rose on to Jamie’s face. “I don’t believe you,” he said. “But that’s OK.”

I don’t want anything left unsaid, thought Jamie. Absolutely right.

He was still sitting in his chair, staring at the door that Frankenstein had exited through five minutes earlier, trying to process what had just happened. The sight of the monster when he opened the door had filled him with a bitter cocktail of anger and disappointment, the same emotions he had felt whenever he had seen him in the last six months or so. Now, barely fifteen minutes later, what he was feeling was an overwhelming sense of relief, as though a huge weight had finally been removed from his shoulders and set aside.

Both Kate and Matt had asked him many times whether he missed Frankenstein, and he had never lied to them by saying no. He had told them that he did, of course he did, but that he could not forgive the monster for what he had done, and didn’t think he would ever be able to. But now, staring around his empty quarters, he realised how wrong he had been; in the end, he had forgiven him as easily and completely as if Frankenstein had borrowed a pen and forgotten to give it back.

He got to his feet, walked across the room and opened the door, and was halfway down the corridor towards the lift before it had even swung shut behind him.

Jamie strode down the cellblock, bracing himself to see his mother for the first time since she had been cured.

It had almost come as a surprise to him when Larissa had asked how his mother was and he had admitted that he hadn’t seen her since she had been discharged from the infirmary; the last seventy-two hours had been so utterly hectic – even by the standards of Blacklight – that he had simply forgotten about her.

It hurt his heart to admit it, but it was the truth.

As a result, he was bracing himself for anger or – at the very least – disappointment, neither of which he would be able to blame her for. He took a deep breath, and walked out in front of the now redundant UV barrier that formed the front wall of his mother’s cell.

“Hi, Mum,” he said.

She looked up from her seat on the sofa and smiled so widely at him that he thought for a brief moment that he was going to burst into tears.

“Hello, love,” she said. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever been down here and I didn’t hear you coming. Come in, come in.”

He smiled, and pressed his ID card against the panel on the wall. He was pretty sure he could move through the purple light fast enough to avoid being hurt, but this was not the day to try and discover he was wrong. The UV wall disappeared and he walked into the cell; his mother met him in the middle of the square room and wrapped him in a one-armed hug that squeezed the air out of him, even though her supernatural strength was now a thing of the past.

“Hey,” he whispered. “It’s all right, Mum. It’s all right.”

She released him and stepped back. Her left arm was still wrapped in plaster, her eyes were bruised black and brimming with tears, but her smile was wide and full of happiness. “Tea?” she asked.

He grinned. “Sure. Thanks, Mum.”

His mother nodded, and set about filling the kettle and putting teabags into mugs. He watched her work through a task so familiar it was almost second nature, even with only one working arm, feeling his heart throb in his chest.

How could you leave her down here on her own? How could you not even take five minutes to come and see her? What the hell is wrong with you?

“I’m sorry, Mum,” he said, his voice low. “For not coming till now. I’m really sorry. It’s just that—”

She looked at him, and shook her head sharply. “Don’t, Jamie,” she said. “Valentin told me what’s happening upstairs. I understand.”

“Still,” he said. “That’s no excuse. I just—”

“Please, Jamie,” she said. “It’s all right. I know you tried to see me when I was in the infirmary. I know you were worried about me, and I knew you cared. It’s all right, honestly it is.”

She handed him a mug of tea. He took it from her, scarcely able to believe that that was it, that the anger he had been expecting, that part of him had almost been looking forward to, was nowhere to be found, but she was either telling him the truth or had somehow become a far better and more convincing liar than he had ever known her to be.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“My arm hurts,” said his mother, settling back on to the sofa and raising her cast towards him. “And my nose is never going to be quite the same shape again. But it’s strange. I’d got used to being a vampire. I mean, I never got used to it, but I got used to the power that came with it, and now it’s gone. The second day I was in the infirmary, I got a cold. Nothing serious, just a sore throat and a blocked nose, but I’d forgotten what it felt like to be ill, and I got really angry about it. I hated feeling weak and tired. But it passed, and I felt better. I feel better. I feel like myself again.”