As lockdown continued, Harper felt vague and tired a lot of the time, and the longer it went on the more she wondered if that was how she’d always felt. Things seemed blurrier and she hated the feeling of delay while objects came into focus. She started to wear her glasses more often. It was lucky she had two pairs now—her old ones and the antique ones Lolly had found—because she was always losing one and finding the other. It was as if one only existed when the other was lost.

She kept thinking she could hear that high-pitched ting sound that the badge had made, but every time she checked it was still in its place on the shelves. Using next door’s wi-fi, Harper did a search for hearing high-pitched noises. The results told her it was either a brain tumour, hearing loss or her imagination.

She mentioned it to Cleo during a video chat while Lolly was at work. Cleo said, ‘Lockdown fever is a thing.’ And then: ‘My gran keeps thinking she can smell something. She walks around the house going “What’s that smell?” It’s driving Mum mad.’ Harper suddenly remembered the strange bonfire smell in the library. Then Cleo told her another twenty things that were driving her mum mad and Harper was relieved to be swept away by the tide of Cleo’s busy household.

By the end of May, Harper was still hearing the high-pitched noises and waking up out of bed at night. It was always about three o’clock, and she could be anywhere in the flat.

The worst time was when she’d found herself at the back steps. It was raining and she was standing with her toes at the edge of the top step. She’d gripped the railing and felt as if her stomach had flipped out of her mouth and plummeted to the yard. It had only happened once but her body would flood with fear when she thought of it. She’d actually opened the back door in her sleep—just like Cleo had said she’d done when she was little. All three dogs had been sitting in the kitchen when she came back in, looking at her as if they weren’t sure if it was time for a walk.

Now Harper was finding it more difficult to get to sleep in the first place, not knowing where she might end up. She could lie there for ages in silent panic, which got worse if a twig snapped outside the window, or the front door rattled, or the hallway cupboard clicked open.

In the mornings, although she’d feel relieved that the night was finished, she also felt ashamed of how scared she’d been. She was acting like the most terrified person in the world. Logically, she was one of the safest. That’s what Mr Kumar said in so many of his morning greetings. But she didn’t feel safe any more.

Her parents were risking their lives to help people who had real problems. Harper didn’t think they’d want to know what a chicken she was. And nothing scared Lolly.