As twelve thirty rolls around my phone starts to flash up with Callum’s number. I flick the answer button across.

‘Hey, wassup?’ he asks.

I get up from my seat, mooch into the living room and sit down on the sofa. ‘I . . . um saw that bloke again yesterday, the one from the pub.’

‘Danielle, what did we talk about?’

‘Look, I know you told me to call you before speaking to him, but I had little choice. I was hardly expecting him to be waiting outside my house.’

‘He was waiting for you outside your house.’ I can hear the stress in Callum’s voice as he speaks. ‘OK, so who was he then?’

‘He says he knew my family, twenty years ago. Apparently we all lived together.’

‘Right,’ Callum says, drawing the word out. ‘But I take it you have no memory of him from that time?’

I know what Callum’s about to say. I can hear it already inside my head. I search through my mind; there’s no recollection of Jeremiah there at all. It really grates on me that there’s so little I can remember. ‘I’m not sure, everything's just a big jumbled mess. I have snatches of things that might be memories from that time. He showed me a photograph of all of us, me, Mum, Dad, and Harvey, with a group of people standing behind us. There must’ve been about ten other people in the photo,’ I say.

‘Sounds a bit weird, if you ask me.’

'Yeah, it does a bit. But, then he said to me my brother wants to talk to me, but only if this guy, who I spoke to, is present.’

I wait for Callum to reply, leaning back in my seat. In the distance there’s the sound of someone else chatting on the phone.

‘OK, so what did you say to him?’ He’s annoyed at me for not calling him like he asked me to; I can hear it in his voice.

I puff out my cheeks. ‘Well, I said I would sit on it, but I think I kind of want to go with him.’

‘You’re not being serious, are you?’ Callum asks. ‘This complete stranger rocks up, says all this stuff about knowing you and your family, yet you have no recollection of him. He could’ve made the whole thing up, and now you’ve said you’ll go with him, a stranger to visit your brother in prison. Danielle, this is mad. What if he has no intention of taking you to see your brother, but has something else planned?’  

I press my free hand into the sofa. ‘I know it seems mad. But this is the best chance I’ve got of actually speaking to Harvey. I want to speak to my brother; I want to see how he’ll react when I ask him the questions I want to ask.’

‘Has this bloke shown you any proof that he’s even had any dealings with Harvey?’

I think back to last night. I hadn’t thought to ask that, the photograph seemed enough proof to me. ‘I . . . I guess I can ask him.’

‘Perhaps I should go with you,’ Callum says.

‘No, he said it has to just be me and him.’

I can visualise Callum shaking his head. ‘God, this is sounding crazier by the minute,’ he says.

‘I might need you to cover for me though, with Mum and Dad, I don’t want them to know what I’m doing; I don’t want to end up worrying them.’

Deep down I know they would much rather I didn’t see Harvey at all, despite telling me, when I was a teenager that, if I still wanted to, I could apply to visit him once I turned eighteen. I can still remember that day, requesting to visit him for the first time. I can still feel the sheer blow of disappointment I felt when Harvey refused to see me. I’d gone up to my room and screamed into my pillow to prevent Mum and Dad from hearing me.

‘OK, well, if you think this is the right thing to do, but if something happens, or if you don’t get in contact with me to let me know you’re OK then I’m telling them everything.’

I puff out my cheeks and exhale. ‘Sure, that’s fine. We haven’t even got a date sorted yet, I’ll have to get in touch with him to tell him I want to go, then we’ll get the ball rolling from there.’

‘I want you to keep me updated though, OK. Text me the moment he gets in contact with you.’

‘Sure thing.’

‘I still think this is a bad idea, but whatever I say I don’t think it’s going to change your mind. Let me know when he texts you, I’ve gotta go as I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.’

‘Sure. Speak to you later,’ I say.

Callum ends the call. I let out a steady breath. He’s going to be annoyed with me. It might take a few days but he’ll calm down.  

I get up from the chair and pad into the kitchen. I’ve got another hour until my next zoom meeting of the day, a prospective client based in Yorkshire.

I flick on the kettle; the sound of it roaring fills the house. I fold my arms across my chest and stare out at the garden, focusing on the swings at the bottom. Is Callum right, should I be doing this? I purse my lips, thinking again of Jeremiah, how happy he seemed to see me, despite the fact I don’t know him. I sort of, I sort of already feel a sense of attachment to him. It’s weird. It’s like I want to know more about him.  

The thought I might get answers about my past, is enough to outweigh the risk that something might go wrong. I pull out my phone, text Jeremiah, and tell him I want to go with him to visit Harvey. I slip my phone back into my pocket. All I can do now is wait for Jeremiah to get back in touch.