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horribly feverish night of confusion, half dreams and continuous tossing and turning. At one point she sat bolt upright in bed, startled by a nightmarish dream. Touching her forehead, she realised that it was damp with sweat. She tried to swallow but her throat was dry. She was just about to drag herself out of bed to go and get a drink when she turned and saw an ice-cold glass of water right there on her bedside table. She stared at it for a moment, trying to understand where it had come from, andthen decided that she must have poured it for herself earlier. She picked it up and drank thirstily.
    Throughout the rest of the night, several more strange things happened. Once she woke, shivering with cold, only to discover that the covers were tucked warmly around her, though she couldn’t recall having reached down to pull them back up. Later, when her temperature spiked again and she felt so hot she could barely stand it, she suddenly felt a cool breeze on her skin, as though someone had turned on a fan and pointed it directly towards her. Instead of questioning it, though, she closed her eyes and allowed the cool air to help her fall back to sleep.
    It took Juliette three days to recover from her bad cold. As her nights became less feverish, the frequency of the strange incidents lessened, until eventually she began to think that she must have been delirious – that she had simply imagined all of it, including the first few occasions from before she’d even fallen sick. Despite the fact that each unexplained moment had felt so real, as though Danny was right there with her, once his touch had vanished it was so hard to imagine it ever happening again – or to believe that it had ever really happened to begin with. Now that Juliette was well again, and more than five days had passed with no contact whatsoever from Danny, her surety was fading further and further away.
    So when a few days later, as Juliette was mixing ingredients in a bowl, preparing her cakes for that night’s delivery to the twenty-first floor, she felt the sudden sensation of a body pressed up against her back, she was taken completely by surprise. She then felt the pressure of hands sliding down her arms, and joining her own hands in the bowl. Instead of being frightened, she felt instant relief. Her first thought was, It is real. It’s not my imagination. He really is here with me. Thank God. And then she closed her eyes and relaxed into the sensation, because it was so familiar and comforting.
    Danny had always loved the way Juliette liked to mix with her bare hands. Back then, she hadn’t baked nearly as much as she did now. It was more of a hobby that she partook in every now and then – certainly not the obsession it had become for her now. He liked to appear behind her while she mixed. First his arms would circle her waist, then his body would press up against hers and his hands would plunge into the mixture, as he pushed his fingers between hers, his lips on the back of her neck. The tart or pie she was preparing would be quickly abandoned, as he pulled her away from the bench top and led her to the bedroom, or maybe even just the rug on the living-room floor. He wouldn’t let her clean her hands, preferring to lick the mixture from her fingers as they made love.
    Now, as Juliette stood in the kitchen, wishing that she could turn around in his arms and kiss his warm lips, she opened her mouth and spoke in whisper. ‘Danny?’ She asked, ‘Where have you been baby?’
    But there was no response and gradually, the sensation faded away to nothing. Juliette slowly sank down onto the kitchen floor and began to cry.
    ‘Come back, Danny, come back,’ she said in a small, sad voice through her tears.
    For the rest of the day, Juliette wandered slowly from room to room in her apartment. Each time she entered a new room, she would stand still, close her eyes and focus in on her other senses. She was trying to find him. She wanted to prove to