There is a catch, lodged under her sternum, just below her heart. Kate feels it when she breathes in, when the air sighs out of her. At night, as she lies on her back, her hand moves to this strange ache, and she massages it gently. It’s just a stitch, she tells herself, an odd sort of stitch, but no matter what she does, it won’t go away. It’s there when she is walking, showering, driving; it stops her if she turns her head too quickly.
Kate considers going to the physio, to melt the pain out of her body, but this deep hurt is what connects her to Noah.
She stares out of the window to where Spit and Spot lie panting in the shade. Whenever they hear the gate, or the sound of tyres on gravel, they look up, ready to bound up to Maddie, expecting Noah to be there to pat them with his large hands and say, ‘Hey girl, hey boy.’ Do they feel the same ache, Kate wonders, as they look for Noah and cannot find him? Is it like hers, deep-seated, unmoving, as hard and rough as a rock in her chest.