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she says, trying to reassure the girl. ‘Probably just this whole situation making you think like that.’

      The girl nods but doesn’t look convinced. As Amber watches her half-heartedly dig her fork into the sausage, she makes a promise to herself: she’ll do everything she can to get this girl safely home.

      Half an hour later, Amber is walking towards her flat. She’s promised the girl she’d be back in time for the police visit. She’d leave the shop closed today. It wasn’t like anything would be sold anyway and the painting would just need to be delayed a few hours. As she goes to put her key in the door, her phone buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out and sees it’s her mum.

      ‘Hi, Mum,’ she says as she puts it to her ear, hovering it between her neck and shoulder as she lets herself into the main part of the block of flats she lives in. It’s a three-storey building enclosing a pretty garden. There’s a nice feel there, close enough to the sea to hear it, but far enough from town to avoid the noise from the late-night pubs. Amber had moved in three months after she and Jasper had split up, and that was ten years ago now. He’d insisted she stay in the house they’d shared together, but she hadn’t been able to face it. Without Katy, it was just a black hole of grief and painful memories. The flat meant a clean start, a complete contrast to the busy, bright family home they’d had. Walls painted white, a white kitchen, minimal furniture.

      ‘I tried calling you,’ Rita says. ‘You haven’t picked up!’

      ‘I’ve been at the hospital.’

      ‘With the girl?’

      ‘Yes, Mum.’

      ‘She’s been at the hospital, Viv,’ Rita calls out. ‘With the girl!’

      ‘Wonderful!’ Amber hears her aunt declare in the background.

      Amber rolls her eyes as she jogs up the stairs.

      ‘How is she?’ Rita asks.

      ‘Getting there. The police are visiting today.’

      ‘Will you stay with her for that? She’ll be terrified, the poor thing.’

      ‘What’s happened?’ Amber hears Viv ask in the background.

      ‘Just the police visiting, Viv,’ Rita replies.

      ‘Just put me on speakerphone, will you, Mum?’ Amber says, frustrated as she lets herself into her flat. ‘We might get through this conversation by the end of the day that way.’

      There’s the sound of buttons being pressed.

      ‘Hello, Amber, love, it’s your aunt Viv.’ Her aunt is talking in a loud and slow voice.

      ‘Really? I had no idea,’ Amber says as she walks to her bedroom and kicks her shoes off.

      ‘Honestly, your girl and her sarcasm,’ Viv tuts. ‘So, what’s happening then?’

      ‘I’m just having a shower then going back to the hospital,’ Amber says.

      ‘Do you want us to bring anything?’ Rita asks.

      ‘Ergh, no, I don’t think you two barging around the hospital will do her any good,’ Amber says.

      ‘We found her too!’ Viv declares.

      ‘Honestly, Viv, she’s not a prize,’ Rita says.

      The two women start arguing and Amber blocks it out as she pulls a towel from the immersion cupboard. ‘Finished now?’ she asks her mum and aunt. They both grow silent. ‘Good. There is a favour you can do for me, actually. Can you go to the shop and stick a notice on the front? Something like Closed for the day.’

      ‘You never close it,’ her mum says in surprise.

      ‘And what about the painting?’ Viv chimes in. ‘One of the huts is half-red!’

      ‘It’ll just have to wait,’ Amber replies. ‘Hopefully the girl’s family will come for her soon, especially with the police getting involved.’

      ‘Don’t wear yourself out,’ Rita says.

      ‘Yes, make sure you come home to sleep tonight,’ Viv adds.

      ‘And eat,’ Rita insists. ‘In fact, why don’t you come over for dinner?’

      Amber starts undressing and walks into her bathroom. ‘I’ll see,’ she shouts through to the bedroom. She hears the two sisters whispering. ‘What are you two whispering about?’ she asks.

      ‘Have you seen Jasper at the hospital?’ Rita asks quietly.

      Amber pauses. ‘He does work there, so yes.’

      ‘And …?’ Viv asks.

      ‘And what?’ Amber asks, trying to make her tone flat.

      ‘Well …’ her mum replies. Amber knows what she’s desperate to ask: Did they talk? Was there a connection? Will they get remarried? Her mum and aunt adored Jasper and were devastated when they divorced. It was only recently they seemed to give up hope of them ever getting back together. A small thing like this could bring all that misguided hope back.

      ‘He just passed by, we said hi,’ Amber lies. ‘Look, I need to go now. Phones don’t work well in showers. I’ll call you later.’

      ‘Okay, love,’ Rita says. ‘You take care, all right?’

      ‘Will do.’ Amber hangs up then stands quiet for a few moments. She catches sight of her naked body in the mirror. The curve of her plump tummy. The sag of her heavy breasts. She smoothes her fingers over her thighs, feeling the cellulite. Then her fingers creep up to find the scar from her c-section. Her eyes glisten with tears and she thinks of the way Jasper had looked at her in the lift. ‘Oh, Jasper,’ she whispers to herself.

      An hour later, she’s back at the hospital. The girl is sitting up in bed, staring out of the window. Her eyes light up when she sees Amber.

      ‘I brought some stuff,’ Amber says, laying a large shopping bag on the chair. ‘First this,’ she says, pulling an A4 plain paper pad out with a pencil set.

      The girl smiles. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘And after your wonderful experience at breakfast, I thought you might fancy a break from hospital food. Plus,’ she says as she unpacks the food items she bought on the way, ‘I thought we could turn it into a bit of a memory game. I read once that taste can trigger memories.’

      The girl’s face lights up even more as she takes in the large chocolate bar laid on her table. ‘I like this idea.’

      ‘Me too, mainly because it means I get to join in,’ Amber says with a wink. ‘Let’s start with this,’ she says, holding up a jar of Marmite.

      ‘Marmite,’ the girl says. ‘I think I know this.’

      ‘But do you like it? That is the question.’

      ‘I don’t remember.’

      ‘Only one way to find out,’ Amber says, opening the jar and handing the girl a spoon. ‘I find whether someone like or dislikes Marmite is a good personality barometer.’ The girl takes the spoon, scoops a small amount out and tentatively brings it to her mouth. She pulls a face as she tastes it. ‘Disgusting.’

      ‘Yes, I knew it! It’s foul, isn’t it? My aunt loves it and used to force-feed it to me as a child in the hope I’d change my mind. I think it’s the devil’s food … so let’s save it for the porter.’

      The girl giggles.

      ‘Right, chocolate next,’ Amber says, pointing to the chocolate bar.

      ‘I have to like this. I kind of know I do,’ the girl says as she unwraps it.

      ‘Who doesn’t?’

      The girl breaks it in half

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