‘Danielle, Danielle it’s OK.’ My senses return, Oliver’s warm breath on my cheek, carrying a hint of garlic from something he ate at lunch. His arm’s wrapped around me. My shirt’s drenched in sweat. The room comes back into focus, big and bold, like a camera sharpening its lens on an object. ‘Let me get you some water.’

Oliver darts into his bathroom. I hold my hand to my forehead taking in steady breaths. What the hell happened? For a moment, in my head, I was with Emma relaxing in the garden, and the next moment I was . . . I clutch the armrest tight. No, I can’t go back there. Oliver returns, handing me a glass. I take greedy long gulps of water.

‘Thanks,’ I say, gasping for air. I place the palm of my free hand onto the soft leather armrest.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says, wiping his forehead. ‘This is a trusting exercise I do with everyone when they first come here and I didn’t mean to . . . what did you see? You went as white as a sheet.’

‘I was . . . I was back in that moment, the day Harvey killed Mum and Dad. For a moment I was relaxed, I was thinking of a special place, like you told me to do, and the next thing it changed. It felt so real, like I was back there in that moment.’ Don’t think about it.

‘Have you ever had a panic attack before?’ Oliver asks.

‘Um . . . years ago, I think, when I was at school, but that was the only time.’ I think back to that day. I was ten. My teacher had given me a copy of The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe to read, the moment I realised what the book was panic gripped me. I’d ended up passed out on the floor. I haven't been able to look at the book since.

‘Well I think it’s best if we stop there for now. I’ll leave you to get settled in your room, and I suggest you try and get some rest before dinner this evening. Is there anything you would like in the meantime?’ Oliver asks.

‘Um, I’d like to see Callum, and you were going to give me the Wi-Fi code.’

‘Of course,’ he says, a slight hint of hesitation to his voice. ‘The Wi-Fi box is just by my bed if you want to take a look, I’ll tell Callum you’d like to see him.’

He drifts out of the room. I head over to the Wi-Fi box near his bed, punching the code into my phone. I grab Mum’s diary and the watch Oliver gave me, and slip out of the room.

From the hallway I watch Oliver make his way up the path towards the house, hands buried in his pockets. There are a couple of people, including Abraham, working by the vegetable patch again. I dive into my room and sit on the edge of the bed. I open the diary and run my hands over Mum’s handwriting. There’s a date inscribed in the top left hand corner, 29th August 2002.

Told Oliver the news today about bean, it’s strange to think I was more nervous about telling him than anyone else. If only I could’ve recorded the look on his face. Gosh, he was so overjoyed, I was worried he might not welcome the news of us having a new little one to look after, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Actually, he’s the one who suggested I keep this diary, so, I guess that’s what I’m doing.

Bean? She must be referring to me. When Emma’s sister was pregnant with Milo and Niall she gave them nicknames while they were in the womb. I continue reading.

I’ve a feeling it’s going to be a girl. I knew straight away with Harvey that he was a boy, we didn’t ask to be told the sex when we went for the scans, so on the day of Harvey’s arrival, I looked up at Tom and told him, I told you so. Now I’ve said I’ve a feeling bean’s going to be a girl, he’s already started suggesting girl’s names. Grace is a nice one actually.

There’s a knock on my bedroom door. I flick the book shut, as the door opens, it’s Callum.