‘Who’s that with Callie?’ I study the second girl in the photo. Her hair is long and ash blonde. As I examine her face I feel a tug of familiarity but I don’t think we’ve met.

‘That’s Sophie. Our younger daughter.’

‘Is she here?’ I look over my shoulder, half-expecting her to appear.

‘No.’ Amanda’s voice wobbles. ‘We lost her too.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ I carefully place the picture back onto the shelf. My T-shirt is sticking to my skin, and I tug it away from my stomach. It feels as if the air has been sucked from the room, and I don’t know how Amanda can stand the heat in her cardigan. She must have lost the ability to feel, in every sense.

We sit in awkward silence, and the lump that rises in my throat feels so solid it’s almost as if I could reach in and pull it out. There’s a rattle of china and I spring to my feet as Tom walks into the room, cups and saucers – balanced on a silver tray – chink together.

‘Jenna, please. Take a pew. Make yourself comfortable.’

He smiles and I think it’s genuine. More genuine than the one I offer in return. I’m almost desperate to leave, to run away from these people I’m at a loss to know how to comfort.

‘Help yourself,’ Tom says as he scoops up a sugar cube and plops it into his tea. ‘Biscuit?’

‘Thanks.’ I take a piece of shortbread, clutching it tightly between my fingers but I’m too anxious to eat it and as it begins to crumble I place it on my knee. I lick the sugar off my fingertips while I try to quell my rising panic. This is awful. I’ve never been good at small talk and I don’t want to skirt around the reason I’m here, but I don’t feel I can dive straight in either. My eyes bounce around the room as I fidget in my seat.

‘Whose is the trophy?’ I point to the gas fire.

‘That’s Tom’s.’ Amanda’s response is immediate, and I think she is grateful we are not talking about Callie yet. ‘He won it at golf.’

‘My dad played golf for years.’ He’d meet up with John on a Saturday afternoon. Mum and Linda would sometimes go shopping. Dad’s clubs are still in Mum’s garage, and I wonder if he misses it. I wish he’d start playing again but I suppose break-ups do that, don’t they? Fracture friendships. Force people to take sides.

‘I was a late starter,’ Tom says. ‘I had a heart attack three years ago but I didn’t really change my lifestyle. I stupidly thought I was too young for long-term heart problems but then I had a second heart attack and it was touch and go for a while. The doctors didn’t think I’d pull through. Callie and Sophie were terrified. Sophie used to interrogate me on what I’d eaten and drunk every day; she lived in constant fear of me dying.’

‘We all did,’ interjects Amanda.

‘I know. But I made changes. I gave up booze and fags and I took up power walking and playing golf but I didn’t enjoy it as much as the fishing me and my older brother Joe used to do. You can’t beat sitting next to a river but that doesn’t get you fit, does it? It’s hard to stick to a regime if you don’t enjoy it. Not like Amanda and her yoga. She used to get up at six every day to do her routine. I don’t exercise any more.’

‘You should. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you, Thomas.’ Amanda looks stricken.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He reaches across the arm of the sofa and tenderly brushes her hair away from her face. ‘You’re stuck with me.’ The gesture is so simple, so intimate, my chest tightens.

‘Golf is a strange game,’ Tom says. ‘Walking for miles after a ball. But it was good to get out of the house. I’d spent so much time laid up, resting. I felt disconnected from the world. Amanda said I needed a hobby. Something to occupy me. I was at a bit of a loss without the business to run; my brother Joe stepped in when I was sick. It was supposed to be temporary but I never did go back. I needed to stay stress free. I had my orders.’ He shoots Amanda a smile as he says this.

‘What was your business?’ I am glad Tom is so talkative.

‘I sold car parts. My father, Colin, was a scrap metal merchant. I wasn’t born into money. Not like Amanda. Her parents were horrified when we started dating; not that they ever warmed to me. They live in Florida now. I suppose I wasn’t exactly a catch. I was brought up on a council estate. My mum was a cleaner and my dad was a scrappy. Still, Amanda saw something in me, didn’t you dear.’

‘I still do. You’re a good man.’

‘I used to sell insurance but when my dad passed and left the yard to me and Amanda, and the house and money to my older brother Joe, I thought I might as well give it a go. It folded after Callie died. No one had the heart to carry on with it. You might meet Joe later. He’s popping in to drop off Amanda’s repeat prescription. He’s a godsend. I don’t know what we’d do without him.’

Amanda’s brow furrows and as she sees me watching her she says: ‘It was awful when Thomas was ill. I was beside myself when the doctor said I should prepare for the worst. When Thomas came home I drove him mad with my fussing.’

‘That’s what Mum was like. Spraying everything with Dettol so I didn’t come into contact with any germs. I can’t imagine the strain when someone you love is so sick.’

‘I found it difficult to cope.’ Amanda tucks her hair behind her ear. ‘Thomas had always taken care of everything and suddenly it was all down to me. I didn’t even know which day the recycling bins went out. I had to muddle through the best I could.’

‘You did a great job holding everything together,’ Tom says, but Amanda gives a small, sad shake of her head. ‘How did your parents manage?’ she asks.

‘It drove them apart, I think. They ended up separating when I was ill.’

‘I’m sorry,’ says Amanda. ‘Do you think they’ll sort things out?’

‘I hope so.’

‘Maybe they just need a break now you’re on the mend?’ Tom says. ‘Once I was better, Sophie took off for weeks, travelling. She needed to unwind. It’s heartbreaking that we never were as close again. She spent more time with her boyfriend than us, but I suppose she had to grow up and distancing herself was part of that. We all cope in different ways, don’t we?’

‘I suppose so.’ But I know there’s more to my parents’ break-up than they are telling me.

‘So you’re a veterinary nurse and you live in the city centre?’ I am grateful Tom has changed the subject. ‘It’s been a comfort to find out you’re so close. The hospital was horrified we’d received a letter from you directly. They advised us not to meet but I think—’

‘I don’t care what they say.’ The words burst out of Amanda. ‘With you here I feel like part of Callie is with us. In this room. It’s incredible.’ The atmosphere is charged with emotion and as Amanda locks eyes with me I’ve never felt a connection like it before. Instinctively I reach for her hand. She starts to cry, and I can feel my cheeks are wet with tears too.

‘She saved your life. Our little girl,’ Tom’s voice cracks.

‘I had all these things I wanted to say.’ I wipe eyes with my fingertips. ‘But now I’m here… Thank you. It just doesn’t seem enough but I’m so incredibly grateful. My parents are too. It’s such a selfless thing to have done. I can’t imagine…’

‘I couldn’t bear the thought of another set of parents feeling like we felt. I wanted to do the right thing. Make the right choice.’ Amanda pulls her hand away and tugs a tissue from her sleeve. We sit in silence as she blows her nose while I fumble around for the right words. Any words. The clock ticks. Amanda blows her nose, but at last Tom speaks.

‘Callie lived in the city too. It’s such a coincidence.’

‘My mum says there are no such thing as coincidences. Things are meant to be or they’re not. She’s a great believer in fate. Or she was. Before…’ I tail off, aware of how tactless I sound. Fate or not, some things will always remain incomprehensible.

‘Do you have any siblings, Jenna?’ Tom asks.

‘No. I’m an only child but I always wanted a little sister to look after.’ I wince as my eyes flit to the photo of Callie and Sophie. I’ve said the wrong thing again, but Amanda’s a little more animated as she tells me: ‘Callie always wanted a sister too. She was so protective of Sophie, always getting her out of trouble. Sophie would get stuck at the top of a slide or get lost in the supermarket and Callie was always there for her. They were so close, weren’t they, Thomas?’

‘Peas in a pod to look at them but personality wise they couldn’t have been more different. There was such a bond between them it was lovely to see. Joe and me were the same growing up. He used to do everything he could to look after me when we were young; our parents worked such long hours. He still does, I suppose. Callie was the same with Sophie.’

There’s a pause and I swallow hard before speaking. ‘Do you mind me asking how Callie died?’

The air thickens and movements slow as Tom clatters his cup onto his saucer. Staring at his lap he curls his fingers into his palm, and I hold my breath as I wait for him to answer.