"It’s okay," I said. I couldn’t believe we were actually talking about it, the bad time, openly. I had a vision of myself then as they must have seen me; face down in a pool of vomit on the bathroom floor, and winced, as if something sharp had just pierced me.

"I'm sorry," she said again. Two tears welled up and flowed into the wrinkles by her eyes. "We thought we were doing what was right. Your mother - she-"

"My mother?" My heart was thumping - I could scarcely hear myself above its beats.

"She - she - that's why we were so afraid. They let her out for the day."

"What are you talking about?"

The tears were clogging Aunt Effie's already hoarse voice; I could hardly understand her. "She ran away with you," she said. "We didn't know she'd done it. We thought she was safe at the hospital and you were in the garden."

"What?"

I felt like taking that frail little body before me by the shoulders and shaking as hard as I could. The strength of the urge to do this shocked me. I had to clench my fists to stop myself grabbing her, shaking her, forcing her to make sense.

"She took you from the garden," she whispered. "We thought she was safe at the hospital but she wasn't. We could have lost you both that day."

I could barely speak for frustration, my teeth clenched, hissing out my words in a slow whisper.

"What are you talking about?"

She ignored me. I thought, suddenly, that she wasn't even talking to me, not directly; she was confessing to someone else, something else that only she could see. I stepped back from the bed, clenching and unclenching my hands.

Aunt Effie's eyes closed. I could hear her breath rattling through the phlegm in her throat. She coughed and her eyes flew open. I held myself rigid for a second, terrified that she'd died, but after a moment, I could make out the barely perceptible rise and fall of the blankets on the bed. I put my hands up to my head, pressing inwards. I could feel each heartbeat pulse in my temples.

The door opened inwards and Jane's head poked around. "Are you okay?" she asked.

I nodded. I couldn't be bothered to say anything else.

She gave me a look I couldn’t fathom. “Well, I’ll just be outside if you need me.”

I waited for a little while. I had each elbow clasped in an opposite hand and I could feel my arms shaking. I tried to take deep breaths while I worked out what to do.

Aunt Effie coughed. I could see her eyes opening again and, for a moment, I contemplated running away. I steeled myself, pulled up a chair and sat down again by the side of the bed.

"Auntie," I said, gently. I said her name again, more loudly this time. Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked at me.

"What was I saying?" she said, faintly.

I gritted my teeth. "You were telling me about my mother. What about her, Auntie? What did she do?"

She cleared her throat again. "I'm not feeling well."

"You started this," I said. "You have to tell me."

I got her some water and helped her drink it. I had to hold up her head but I didn't do it well; I must have been too rough because she winced and the water ran down the side of her neck. She pawed feebly at her wet nightdress and I wrenched a bunch of tissues from the dispenser on the nightstand and thrust them at her.

"Thank you," she said and something in the way that she said it, in a small, childlike voice, got through my anger. I could feel my eyes filling up with tears and rubbed them away.

Eventually, she dropped the damp wad of tissue on the floor and lay still.

"What happened?" I asked.

My anger had passed as suddenly as it had appeared - I merely felt very tired and my head buzzed. I rubbed at my temples.

"Your mother was a very lovely person," said Aunt Effie, eventually. "But she wasn't very - stable. I think we all knew that, quite early on. Your father knew it."

She stopped speaking. I dropped my hands to my lap.

"And?" I said.

She sighed again. "She was always very lively, very animated. Very vibrant. I suppose that's why we didn't notice she was slipping. She was just slightly more - more excitable than she would have been normally. And then, all of a sudden, she wasn't there anymore."

"What do you mean?"

She turned her head towards me.

"Oh, I don't mean literally," she said. "But we lost her. She turned into somebody else, somebody quite different." She fell silent for a moment. "We lost her," she repeated, quietly.

"What was wrong with her?"

"I believe the diagnosis was schizophrenia."

I looked down. The word reverberated in the quiet room.

"What happened?"

Aunt Effie shifted a little under the covers.

"She was having treatment," she said. "In the hospital. It seemed to be working. She was very - very distressed to be parted from you." I could feel my eyes begin to fill again and blinked hastily. Aunt Effie went on. "Your father brought her home for the day so she could spend some time with you. He only left her for a moment. When he came back to the terrace, she'd taken you and the car."

"Taken me?"

Her voice cracked a little. "You were only a baby. You were in your pram on the terrace, Mrs. Green had gone indoors for something. When we checked, you were gone."

I could feel dread creeping upwards through me, like a rising tide of ice water. I tried once to ask the question but my voice failed. I felt faint and the room shimmered. I tried again. "The car crash - the crash - it wasn't an accident, was it?"

Aunt Effie was silent.

"Was it?" I barely recognised my own voice.

"No," she said, eventually.

I heard myself sob. It shocked me. "She meant to do it?"

Aunt Effie reached out a hand to me but I ignored her. "Oh, my dear," she said. There were tears in her eyes. "She was ill. She didn't know what she was doing."

I stood up abruptly. I had to get out of this room; it was suffocatingly hot. I had my hand up to my scar.

I heard Aunt Effie say my name but, by that time, I was already through the door.

I drove to Caernaven. I didn’t allow myself to think on the way. I just stared at the road ahead and looked past the windscreen wipers that moved endlessly back and forth. It was raining steadily and the mountains were shrouded in mist. I parked the car outside the front door, gravel spraying up as I braked a little too hard. Mrs. Green opened the door before I could use my key.

“Maudie,” she said, sounding surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you for a couple of hours.”

“Sorry,” I said. I felt as though I were speaking through clenched teeth, although of course I wasn’t. My voice felt strangled. “I got here quicker than expected. Do you mind if I get myself a drink?”

She looked even more surprised. “No, of course – I’ll just put the kettle on.”

“A proper drink.” I was past caring what she thought.

In the kitchen, she poured me a modest glass of wine from a newly opened bottle. I had to restrain myself from grabbing it from her.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” I said. For a second, I thought of asking her about my mother and then thought better of it. I didn’t want to hear anything more about it.

“I’m just going up to my room,” I said. I took the bottle with me, not caring what she thought.

Up in my room, I sat against the radiator, shivering. I drank my wine in gulps, choking over it. My head felt as if it had been recently released from a vice.