Barbara looked over at Nightingale. He made another circular motion with his hand and mouthed, ‘Take her back.’
‘Jenny, I want you to go back to eight o’clock. Can you do that for me?’
‘Yes,’ said Jenny.
‘Look at your watch, Jenny. Tell me what time you see.’
‘Eight o’clock.’
‘That’s good. Now I want you to wait until you hear the intercom buzz.’
‘Yes,’ said Jenny quietly. She lay on the sofa, breathing softly.
Barbara looked at Nightingale, frowning. He could see that she was worried and he shared her concern. He tried to flash her a reassuring smile but he knew that he wasn’t fooling anyone. Something had happened on Saturday evening and he feared the worst.
‘There he is,’ said Jenny. ‘The intercom is buzzing.’
‘That’s good. Now open the door.’
‘Okay.’
Barbara waited a few seconds. ‘Have you done that? Have you opened the door?’
‘Yes,’ said Jenny.
‘And what do you see, Jenny?’
‘It’s Uncle Marcus.’
‘That’s good. Now tell me what he’s wearing.’
‘A blue suit and a dark blue tie and a pink shirt.’
‘Does he say anything?’
‘No. He’s just smiling.’
‘That’s good. Now let him inside the house.’
Jenny continued to breathe softly but didn’t say anything.
‘Jenny, can you hear me?’
Jenny said nothing but her chest continued to rise and fall slowly.
‘Jenny?’
Nightingale stood up and went over to the sofa. He looked down at Jenny, then put a hand on Barbara’s shoulder. ‘What’s happening?’ he whispered.
‘Nothing,’ said Barbara. ‘That’s the problem. She should be able to tell me what she says and hears but that’s not happening.’ She reached out and stroked Jenny’s hand. ‘Can you hear me, Jenny?’
Jenny didn’t react.
‘How about taking her back to before he arrives, then move her ahead half an hour?’
Barbara nodded. ‘Okay, I can try,’ she said. She took a deep breath, then began to talk in a low hushed voice, her mouth just a few inches from Jenny’s ear. ‘Now, Jenny, I want you to go back to five minutes to eight. Can you do that for me?’
‘Yes,’ said Jenny.
‘That’s good. And now I want you to look at your watch. Can you tell me what time it says?’
‘Five minutes to eight,’ she said.
‘And what are you doing?’
‘I’m in the kitchen. Drinking wine and reading.’
‘What are you reading?’
‘A Jodi Picoult book. The new one.’
‘That’s good. Now listen to me very carefully. It’s five to eight now. I’m going to ask you to move ahead to half past eight. Are you able to do that for me?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘That’s good. So I want you to do that now. Move forward to half past eight. Do it now.’
Jenny sighed, and then went still.
‘Jenny, can you hear me?’ asked Barbara.
There was no reaction. Barbara looked up at Nightingale. ‘It’s just not working.’
‘Why not? What’s the problem?’
‘I don’t know, Jack. It’s as if that hour just doesn’t exist for her. She can tell us what happens before he arrives, then she’s in the shower afterwards. But there’s nothing in between.’
Nightingale nodded. ‘Okay, move her forward until after he’s gone.’
Barbara turned back to Jenny. ‘Listen to me, Jenny. I need you to move forward to nine o’clock. Can you do that for me?’
There was no response.
‘Jenny, can you hear me?’ Barbara stroked Jenny’s hand. ‘Tell me you can hear me.’ Jenny didn’t respond. ‘Jenny, can you hear me?’ Barbara repeated.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Nightingale, but Barbara ignored him.
She patted the back of Jenny’s hand. ‘Come on, love, I need you to go back. Go back to before he came to the house. Go back to five to eight. Do it now. Come on.’
Nightingale could hear the fear in Barbara’s voice and he knelt down by the side of the sofa. Jenny wasn’t moving and her eyes were closed.
‘Jenny, talk to me,’ said Barbara. ‘Can you hear me?’
Nightingale’s stomach lurched as he realised that Jenny had stopped breathing. ‘Jenny!’ he shouted.
‘You mustn’t wake her, not like that,’ said Barbara, still rubbing Jenny’s hand.
‘She’s not breathing, Barbara!’ said Nightingale, his heart racing.
‘What?’
‘Look!’ said Nightingale, pointing at Jenny’s chest.
Barbara put a hand on Jenny’s cheek. ‘Jenny, it’s time to wake up,’ she said.
Jenny lay completely still.
‘Barbara, you’re going to have to wake her up now.’
‘I’m trying,’ she said. ‘Nothing like this has ever happened before.’
‘Jenny!’ shouted Nightingale.
Barbara seized Jenny’s shoulders and shook her. ‘Come on, Jenny, wake up!’
Jenny’s mouth dropped open but her eyes stayed closed. Nightingale pushed Barbara to the side and pulled Jenny upright. Her head lolled to the side. He shook her hard, then slapped her across the face but she didn’t react.
‘Shall I call an ambulance?’ asked Barbara, her voice trembling.
‘No time,’ said Nightingale. He placed his fingers against Jenny’s neck and found a pulse. Her heart was beating but she’d stopped breathing. That made no sense at all. He bent down and grabbed her around the waist, then straightened up with a grunt and carried her out of the sitting room to the stairs.
‘Jack, where are you going?’ screamed Barbara.
‘We’ve got to snap her out of this, now,’ said Nightingale. He carried Jenny upstairs, using the banister to pull himself up. The bathroom was at the back of the house, next to the spare bedroom. He rushed in, pulled open the glass door of the shower and carried her inside. He twisted the temperature control to cold and then turned the water on full, gasping as the jet of freezing water washed over them both. He twisted around so that the water sprayed over Jenny’s face. Within seconds she began coughing and spluttering, thrashing her head from side to side.
Nightingale lowered her so that her feet were on the floor, and Jenny put out a hand against the tiled wall to steady herself. She shook her head as the freezing water poured down her face, still coughing and fighting for breath.
Barbara followed them into the bathroom and grabbed a white towel.
Nightingale put his hands on either side of Jenny’s face and looked into her eyes. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘What the hell are you doing, Jack?’
‘How do you feel?’
‘Soaking wet and bloody freezing,’ she said. ‘How do you think I feel?’ She saw Barbara standing at the door
