‘He’ll be with Jacques. He must be.’

‘Jacques?’

‘Benjy,’ she whispered, and the effort she’d made was too much and it was too much effort to hold her eyes open a moment longer. ‘My Ben. He’s six years old,’ she said, defeated. ‘He’s six years old and he looks like you. His name’s Benjy. I called him after his father.’

She slept. Just like that she faded, sinking into a sleep that was almost unconsciousness. Ben stared down at her, incredulous, questions crowding his mind.

The silence stretched out. He stared at Lily as if staring could elicit information, but of course it couldn’t, and the longer he stared the more questions formed.

A six-year-old boy called Benjy…

Could it be?

No. They’d always been careful. They had been medical students, not a pair of uninformed teenagers.

She hadn’t meant it. He said that to himself, thinking there were more Bens than him in the world. She could have been referring to anyone.

He thought suddenly of the last time he’d seen Lily, seven years back. He’d been excited about the life ahead of him, and he’d thought she’d been just as excited about returning here. But at the last moment she’d clung and wept and then closed her eyes and pushed him away. There’d been half an hour until her flight. But…

‘Go now,’ she’d whispered. ‘Go.’

‘Lily-’

‘I can’t bear it. If you stay I’ll break. Please. Go.’

And suddenly, finally, he knew in his heart that what he was thinking was right. Somewhere in the chaos outside, in the dark and frightening rainforest or worse, in the midst of the hostage situation, was a little boy who was his son.

I called him after his father.

He felt…ill.

There was nothing more for him to do here. Dazed, he made his way back through the triage station to the entrance to the island’s permanent hospital. Sam was sitting out on the steps, smoking.