‘Earth to Jenna.’ Linda waves her hand in front of my face and I start. I’d been thinking about Callie again.

‘Sorry. Did you say something?’

‘The insulin I asked you to order in for Casper – where is it?’

‘Isn’t it in the stockroom?’

‘I couldn’t see it. Did it definitely come?’

‘It must have.’ But I don’t remember seeing it. ‘Kelly?’

Kelly turns. She’s restocking the shelves with the plastic dog chews moulded into grinning mouths.

‘Did you take delivery of the insulin?’

‘No.’

I push my chair back. ‘I’ll go and check. It must be here somewhere. Perhaps Rachel has moved it?’ I haven’t seen her all morning, and I think she might be avoiding me after last night.

Kelly slides into my seat as I stand up, and taps the keyboard. ‘I’ll check the order system.’

‘Do you have a log-in?’ I begin to recite mine.

‘I’ve got my own.’ She frowns at the screen. ‘I helped with the orders when you were off. There’s no record of insulin being requested this week.’

‘I’m sure… I’m sorry.’ I cover my hot cheeks with my palms.

‘Not to worry, I’ll give Greenacres a call and see if they’ve got any spare,’ Linda says but she doesn’t smile and there’s an edge to her voice.

I don’t blame her. I’m making so many mistakes lately. A couple of days ago the medication I’d left in one of the treatment rooms for the kitten with intestinal parasites was double the dose of his weight. I could have killed him, and I am filled with horror whenever I think of it.

‘Don’t worry, Jenna. I can go and collect it.’ Kelly smiles brightly and I shoot her a look.

Linda thinks she’s so bloody perfect. But is she? It’s not hard to delete an order on the system. Suspicion flows through my veins causing my blood to heat, my muscles to tense. Is it really me making all the mistakes? My mind is filled with gaping black holes where my memories should be. I wish I’d talked about it properly with Rachel last night.

The bell tinkles as the door opens and a lady steps inside, dragging a reluctant poodle on a lead. The dog plants his feet on the floor, throws back his fluffy white head and howls, and I feel like howling with him. Checking my watch, I see there’s another hour to go before I finish at lunchtime, and the sounds of the surgery grow fainter as I drift off back into thought.

* * *

It doesn’t take long to reach the dental surgery where Callie worked, and as I walk through the car park I notice how expensive the cars are, a black BMW, a silver Mercedes and a bright yellow sports car that looks as though it could be a convertible. I wonder whether dentists earn more than vets.

Pushing open the heavy front door I’m hit by the smell of cloves, and I hear the muffled buzzing of a drill. I used to dread the dentist when I was small. I had a filling once and was so terrified of the injection I’d shake each time I got the reminder for my annual check-up. The amount of blood tests I’ve had now I barely notice each time sharp needles penetrate my skin.

The reception is stark white with a glossy green rubber plant towering in the corner. A toddler kneels on the floor pulling toys out of a blue plastic box, squealing with delight as he finds Thomas the Tank Engine.

‘Can I help?’ I’m so transfixed by the whiteness of the receptionist’s teeth I forget to speak until she repeats the question.

‘Yes. Sorry. I’m not a patient here yet but my regular dentist is on maternity leave and I wondered if anyone could squeeze me in here today. My gums bleed a lot and I’m really worried.’

‘I’ll have a look but I think we’re pretty chocca.’ She cups her hand over the computer mouse and shakes it and her screen springs to life. ‘Is there no one else at your surgery that could see you?’

‘They’re all busy. I want to register here anyway. My cousin used to work here and I’ve heard such good things.’

‘Really?’ She looks up. ‘Who is your cousin?’

‘Callie. Callie Valentine.’ I can hardly believe what I’m saying.

‘Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I’m Sara. I was quite good friends with Callie. Did she …?’

‘Sara!’ I remember the photo I’d found online and I hazard a guess. ‘You did the fun run with her for Cancer Research?’

‘Yes!’

I breathe a sigh of relief.

‘We were all so shocked to hear what happened. Look, let me ask Chris. He’s on his lunch break but I’m sure he’ll see you. He had a real soft spot for Callie.’ She pushes a piece of paper and a pen across the desk. ‘Fill in these forms so I can register you as a patient.’

‘Thanks.’ As she speaks on the phone I scan the posters on oral hygiene stuck to the walls but the words seem to blur into one. What am I doing? Lying. I’m bound to get caught out.

‘He’s on his way down,’ Sara says, and seconds later footsteps pound down the stairs.

A man around my age wearing a white lab coat bursts into reception.

‘This is Chris,’ Sara says.

‘Hello,’ I say, and after a few awkward moments he says: ‘You look like her. Like Callie.’ There’s a catch in his voice. He’s staring at my hair as though committing every strand to memory. I shift my weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

‘Not really.’ I raise my hand and touch my head. ‘It’s the red hair. It’s very distinctive. Thanks for seeing me without an appointment. It’s really good of you. I don’t know if Sara explained…’ I’m gabbling. Filling the silence between us.

‘Yes. You’re worried about your gums. Come on up and I’ll take a look.’ He turns and I follow him up the steep stairs and into his room, where I drape my bag and jacket over the coat stand in the corner.

I ask if I can use the loo before we start. I splash my face with cold water. I’m unnerved and I’m not sure if it’s his reaction to me, or being in Callie’s workplace that’s making my breath come a little faster, my cheeks feel a little warmer.

Back in his room, Chris gestures towards the huge black chair and hands me a plastic apron to cover my clothes.

‘Were you close to her? Callie?’ I ask, desperate to fill the silence.

‘You’re her cousin?’

‘Yes.’ I falter. ‘She talked about you. Of course…’ I trail off and tie the apron straps around my waist as I gaze around the room, shiny white and chrome. There’s a corkboard hanging from the wall, a jumble of photos and postcards pinned with multicoloured tacks. In the centre is a photo of Chris and Callie, cheeks pressed together, smiling at the camera.

‘Work barbecue.’ Chris follows my eyeline. ‘So how long have your gums been bleeding?’

‘A few months.’ I tell him what medication I’m on but I don’t say what for.

‘That’s usual, I think, but you did the right thing calling in. It’s better to be safe than sorry, isn’t it?’

I sit down as Chris snaps on plastic gloves. The chair whirrs as it tilts back, and as Chris picks up a stainless-steel instrument which glints in the glare of the overhead light I close my eyes and stretch my mouth wide open. I am conscious of a dribble of saliva that trickles down my chin. Sharp metal scrapes against my teeth and pokes my gums, and I try to concentrate on the radio in the background. It is tuned to a classical station.

‘I think the bleeding is an inevitable side effect of the drugs but everything looks good otherwise. Make another appointment for six months and we’ll keep an eye on it.’

The chair whirrs again and I’m sitting upright, blinking at the brightness and swooshing pink liquid around my mouth and spitting into a stainless-steel bowl that gurgles and hisses. Chris pulls off his gloves and drops them into a wastepaper bin by his feet.

‘I’m sorry about Callie. I was very fond of her. We all were.’

There’s a tap at the door.

‘That’s my next patient,’ Chris says, and I’m disappointed I haven’t been able to ask him any questions.

‘Thanks for squeezing me in,’ I say.

‘You’re welcome. See you again.’

Downstairs, I rummage through my bag for my purse and wait while Sara bags up an orange toothbrush with a lion on the handle and a tube of toothpaste with strawberries on it for the toddler I saw on my way in.

‘Look. Doggie.’ The little boy points at his sticker of Scooby Doo, and I tell him I didn’t get a sticker, that he must have been a really good boy and he beams in delight.

‘How did it go?’ Sara asks me once they leave.

‘All good,’ I say. ‘Sara, do any of the staff here live in Woodhaven?’

‘Goodness. No. That would be a bit of a trek over here, wouldn’t it? Why do you ask?’

‘It’s where Callie had her accident. We’re not sure why she was there. We’re desperate to find out.’

‘I’ve no idea. Sorry.’

‘Is there anyone who might know? We don’t really know her friends; you know what it’s like with family. You don’t always share everything. Who did she hang around with?’

‘Just Nathan, I think. We used to take the mickey a bit, in a friendly way, but it was sweet. The way they were always together. He often dropped her at work and picked her up if their schedules matched. “Wish I had a man like that” I said more than once.’

‘How did she seem to you? In the days before she died?’

‘Let me think,’ Sara screws her face up. ‘She was off sick on the Monday. Some sort of bug. Nathan rang, wanting to speak to her so it must have come on suddenly after he left for work if he didn’t know she was at home. When she came back she looked awful, really pale. She had a black eye too. She said she’d slipped getting out of the shower. “You shouldn’t be here,” I said. “You’ll only pass it on and I don’t want to be throwing up for my birthday next weekend. If I catch it, I’ll kill you.”’ She lowers her gaze. ‘If I’d know she was going to… Well I’d never have said that.’

‘It’s just an expression. Please don’t feel bad. She’d hate that,’ I say, as if I really knew her.

‘She wouldn’t go home. She was too conscientious. She never liked taking time off. I made sure she didn’t do too much that week and I made a bit of a fuss of her. I even brought some homemade soup in but Nathan came and met her for lunch every day so she never got to have any.’

Like Tom, Sara seems to think Nathan really looked after Callie but it almost sounds a little obsessive to me.

‘I’m sure she appreciated the thought.’

‘I hope so.’ Sara sniffs. ‘Anyway, how are her parents? Sophie?’

‘Tom and Amanda are coping as best they can but Sophie’s not here. She’s been in Spain for months but no one has heard from her.’

‘I suppose Sophie getting away is not a bad thing considering.’

‘Considering what?’

Sara’s face colours. ‘She used to drink in the Prince of Wales; you know the pub on Green Street? Didn’t you know? She went a bit off the rails. Callie wasn’t happy about some of the crowd she was hanging out with.’

‘I’ll pop in there on my way home and see if anyone has heard from her. Thanks.’

‘Hang on a sec, I’ve remembered something.’ She turns and rifles through a drawer and when she turns back to me she passes me a clear plastic bag containing a chunky Nokia mobile phone. ‘I found this when I was clearing out Callie’s drawer. She had an iPhone so it wasn’t her current one. It hardly seemed worth bothering her parents with. It’s such an old handset, it’s probably been there for donkey’s years. It doesn’t switch on anyway. There were some Kit Kats too but I ate them. Is that terrible? We used to share.’

‘She wouldn’t mind.’ I’m beginning to believe I really did know her.

I take the phone. Even though Sara has told me the battery is flat I can’t help pressing the button, but the screen remains dark.

As I leave the surgery, clutching the phone against my chest, I am conscious of eyes burning hot into the back of my head and I turn and look up at the consultation rooms. Chris’s shadow looms in the window.