alone in the bathroom. That she would try to harm herself.
‘Come on, follow me.’ Heather led him towards the doctor’s offices. She knocked and entered. ‘Have you seen Kirsty Knight?’
Nobody had.
‘Jamie, I’m sure she’s OK.’
‘So why did you ask me if I thought she’d do something stupid?’
‘I don’t know. I was just…’ She broke off. ‘Come on, she’s probably in the canteen.’
They set off at a jog towards the staff canteen. It was half-empty. Jamie scanned the room quickly. She wasn’t there. He could feel the cold tentacles of dread spreading out, flexing themselves inside him. He could picture her in some store cupboard somewhere, half empty jars of pills lying beside her body. Or her body in a shower, wrists slashed, blood running into the drain. He pinched himself, twisting the skin on his arm until it bruised, trying to expel the visions.
Heather grabbed his arm. ‘Come on. I’ve got an idea where she might be.’
He followed her again: down the stairs, along a corridor, up another long corridor. It was so bright, so stainless. But the smell of death was less noticeable down here; it was replaced by a different scent. In the distance he could hear a baby crying. He suddenly realised where they were heading.
The maternity ward.
They found Kirsty standing against the glass, looking at the babies in the premature baby unit. There were six or seven babies in incubators; a couple of nurses moving among them. Kirsty leant against the glass, gazing in.
‘They’re so tiny,’ she said. ‘Look at them. That one over there was two months premature.’
Jamie put his arms around her and slowly led her away. Heather placed a hand on her back.
‘I was so worried,’ he said softly. ‘We were scared.’
She broke away from him. ‘Scared of what? That I’d kill myself. Or, hey, maybe you thought I’d try to snatch a baby?’
‘No, Kirsty.’
‘Leave me alone!’
She ran down the corridor. Jamie chased after her, their footsteps echoing through the sterile spaces. He caught her at the bottom of the stairs and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly until she stopped struggling and went limp in his arms.
Heather caught up. ‘Is she alright?’ she asked.
Jamie nodded. ‘I’ll take her home.’
He led her out to the car. People gave them strange looks. He could read their minds. How disgusting – that nurse was clearly drunk. And what was wrong with the fellow who was holding her up?
Why was he crying?
Twenty-four
Jamie awoke with a start. He had been dreaming again: dreaming this time that there was a baby crying in the flat. It had been so real he could still hear it.
‘Jamie.’ Kirsty woke up and gripped his arm.
He blinked in the darkness. The loud, shrill cries of a hungry, attention-seeking baby were still audible. But why? Why could he still hear it?
Kirsty sat upright. Her breathing was heavy and quick. She threw the quilt aside and jumped out of bed, flicking the light on, looking around the room wildly. She ran out of the bedroom and into the nursery. Jamie got out of bed and followed her. It was freezing in the flat but he barely noticed. He could still hear the baby. What the hell was going on?
Kirsty was standing in the nursery (spare bedroom, spare bedroom – that’s all it is, Jamie reminded himself, until he could persuade Kirsty to try again) staring into the empty cot. Above the cot, a mobile rotated. Farmyard animals – a pig, a chicken, a cow – spun slowly left then right, then left again. The room was lit by moonlight, and the animals cast lifesized shadows on the walls. Jamie switched on the light.
Kirsty turned to look at him. ‘Jamie, can you hear it too?’
‘Yes.’
She clamped her hands over her ears. ‘I thought it was in my head. But you can hear it too? You promise?’
‘ I promise. Come on, let’s get out of here.’ He took her hand and led her back to the bedroom.
The baby’s cries were so clear. Short bursts of treble-heavy crying, followed by long wails that seemed to get louder and louder before suddenly falling silent. For ten seconds, the crying stopped altogether, and Jamie and Kirsty stood in their bedroom, clutching each other, just the sound of their chests beating in the darkness. Then it started again, even louder than before.
Kirsty fell onto her hands and knees. ‘It’s coming from downstairs.’
Jamie had known that already. Had known the moment this started.
‘They’ve got a baby down there,’ Kirsty