Recordings of the curtailed performance had been shared widely on social media and, although the videos taken by proud parents during the show weren’t the most harrowing, they were uncomfortable to watch. The sight of a little girl with a pink nose and long whiskers freezing onstage had brought with it a sense of foreboding that resonated with the public, if not the audience at the time.

‘I was just as excited as Amelia,’ Kathryn added. ‘I work on the high street and had been following the theatre renovations for two years. Some of their other shows were a bit pricey, but we snapped up the tickets for the dance school.’ She picked at the label of her discarded J2O bottle, a pained expression on her face.

‘Where were you sitting?’

‘In the stalls,’ she said. ‘In hindsight, I wish I’d paid a bit extra for the seats upstairs in the VIP area. It was less crowded up there, although that didn’t help poor Hilary Clarke I suppose.’

‘Can you remember your seat numbers?’

‘It was Row F,’ said Amelia when her mum struggled to recall the exact location. ‘Mum had the aisle seat. We were on the left, which is stage right, obviously.’

‘Amelia fancies herself as a bit of a director,’ explained Kathryn. ‘She and Evie were always putting on little shows of their own.’

‘We don’t do that any more,’ Amelia said solemnly.

‘Everything changed after the fire,’ her mum agreed. She scraped a nail across the torn label on the bottle, staring at it intently. ‘But Evie’s started back at dance school, so you never know. We might get back to normal one day.’

They were quiet for a moment as they recalled how things used to be. Not everyone’s life could be reset. Leanne cleared her throat. ‘Was it just the two of you?’

‘Yes,’ Amelia replied. ‘We were going to sneak backstage afterwards to see Evie.’

‘It’s good that your friend got out safely.’

As the little girl nodded, her eyes glistened.

Kathryn opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. ‘I was about to say Amelia wasn’t so lucky, but she was luckier than some. I can’t imagine where I’d be now if …’ She shook her head. ‘It feels so random when you look at who made it out and who didn’t.’

‘Yes, it certainly does,’ Leanne said as the names of the victims rolled like a list of credits in front of her glazed eyes.