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from Dawn – no response or indication that she could hear, or that any of her senses were working. ‘She must have been able to see to have walked round the landing and come into our bedroom,’ I whispered to John.
    He nodded. ‘Dawn, go back to bed,’ he said, lightly touching her arm. That touch, the feel of John’s hand on her arm, appeared to reach Dawn and kick-start her into action. Still not blinking or showing any facial expression, and standing very upright, she gradually began to turn.
    John and I watched with a mixture of awe and horror as, very slowly and like a robot, she completed the turn so that she was facing away from the cot. Taking regular and mechanical steps she began to cross the bedroom towards the door. John and I followed in silence a couple of steps behind, Adrian still nestled in my arms, asleep.
    We followed Dawn out of our bedroom and on to the landing. I watched, dumbfounded, as Dawn navigated the right turn on the landing, and then paused at the top of the stairs. For a moment I thought she was going to try to go downstairs, and my breath caught in my throat. But after a brief hesitation she continued the few steps into her bedroom. John and I stood at her bedroom door and watched as she slowly crossed her room without bumping into anything and then got into bed. The room was at the back of the house and, without any glow from the street lamps outside, very dark. We could see her profile as she sat upright in bed for a few seconds and, then pulling up the duvet, lay down.
    ‘Just a minute,’ John whispered to me, and he went on to the landing and switched on the light. There was now enough light for us to see most of her room, including the bed. Gingerly, I followed John across the room, half expecting Dawn to sit up and stare at me with those lifeless, glazed eyes. But she was lying flat on her back with her eyes closed and breathing evenly, apparently asleep. John and I stood by her bed for a moment looking down at her; then, moving away, we crept out of her room. John closed her door and we returned to our bedroom.
    ‘Christ!’ John said as we entered. ‘Whatever was that all about?’
    I shook my head and shivered, but not from cold. I lay Adrian in his cot and tucked him in. He murmured and waved his little fist in the air but stayed asleep. I kissed him goodnight and returned to bed. John closed our bedroom door and joined me. We lay side by side, propped up on our pillows, for a few minutes without saying anything. There was no way I could go back to sleep. I could still feel my heart thudding from the shock I’d had, and I guessed John felt the same.
    ‘Whatever was that all about?’ John said again after a moment, rubbing his hand over his forehead.
    ‘Do you think she was sleepwalking?’ I asked, glancing at the bedroom door. ‘I hope she doesn’t do it again.’
    ‘The social worker didn’t say she had done it before, did she?’ he asked at length.
    ‘No, but she didn’t say much at all. Perhaps it’s the first time. Perhaps Dawn is worried by her first night somewhere new. Sleepwalking is caused by anxiety, isn’t it?’
    John shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea. I don’t know anything about it.’
    ‘Neither do I.’
    We didn’t really know what to say to each other. The episode was completely outside anything we had experience or knowledge of, as I am sure it is for most people. ‘I don’t suppose she will do it again,’ I offered, as much for my own benefit as John’s.
       
    Eventually, in the soothing half light, my eyes began to close. But no sooner was I asleep than I heard Adrian cry for his 3.00 a.m. feed. As I woke my gaze immediately went to the bedroom door. It was still shut, and I breathed an audible sigh of relief. I looked at John, still propped up on his pillow and asleep. Careful to wake him, I got out of bed and, collecting Adrian from his cot, returned to bed to feed him. Sometimes John heard Adrian cry and other times he didn’t,