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‘Sorry we’re late,’ Martin said. ‘My son and punctuality seem not to go together very well.’

‘That’s fine,’ Best said. ‘Glad you made it. Come in, James.’

Martin took out his cheque book and felt in his pockets for a pen. Best reached into the hall and handed one to him.

‘Sorry about the cheque. I don’t have cash.’

‘Thank you.’ Best took the cheque. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘Pleasure.’ Martin grabbed his car keys. ‘I’ll be back in ninety minutes. See you then.’

2

Sandra was watching a politics programme when he came into the living room. She was sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed. It was clearly engrossing; she didn’t turn to look at him.

He watched her for a few moments then started to massage her shoulders. With James out of the house, they could do it right here.

Or in the kitchen. Anywhere, really.

She stiffened, and he stopped.

‘Is everything OK?’

She turned and looked up at him, her face red and her eyes wet with tears.

He sat opposite her.

‘It hit me when you left,’ she said, her voice soft. ‘I watched you and James go and then I thought, in a week from now she’ll have been gone a year. I’ve known the anniversary is coming up, but all of a sudden it was there. A year without our baby girl.’

Martin nodded. ‘I know. It’s been on my mind too.’

‘It doesn’t really get better, does it?’ Sandra closed her eyes. ‘It fades a bit, becomes part of the background, but when you remember it, it hurts as much as it ever did. I still find it hard to believe she’s gone.’

‘Sometimes I dream she’s home,’ Martin said. ‘And in my dream I’m so happy. Ecstatic. But then I wake up and remember she’s not there. It takes all day to recover.’

‘Me too.’

‘James as well, probably.’

‘How was he?’ Sandra asked. ‘Do you think he knows it’s coming up?’

‘I imagine so. I’ll talk to him later. Check he’s OK. I’m glad he’s got Louise.’

‘Kind of,’ Sandra said. ‘I like her – she’s a lovely girl – but I can’t bear the thought she might hurt him. I want him to be in love and happy, but I don’t want him to be vulnerable. And teenage boys in the grip of their first love are the definition of vulnerability.’

‘I think we have no choice but to let it go,’ Martin said. ‘We can’t protect him from everything. I will talk to him though, about Maggie and the anniversary.’

‘OK.’ Sandra looked at him, her expression suddenly serious. After a pause, she spoke. ‘Do you think she’s alive?’

‘You know,’ Martin said, slowly, ‘I think about that all the time. All the evidence says she isn’t. I’ve read everything, all the statistics about the likelihood of someone turning up alive after one day, two days, a week, a month, and they’re pretty clear: she’s more than …’ His voice broke, and he looked away. ‘More than likely dead. But some part of me is convinced she isn’t.’ He looked at his hands. ‘But sometimes, when I think of where she might be, I wonder whether she would be better off if she was.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Sandra said. ‘If she’s alive – wherever she is – that’s better than the alternative. Because if she is alive, she’ll come back to us. One way or another, she’ll find a way to come home.’

Martin caught her gaze. ‘I hope so,’ he said. ‘I hope so.’

3

James looked at the equation. Mr Best – he insisted on being called that – had finished explaining how to do it, and for a moment he’d understood, but it was already gone. He shook his head.