Leanne didn’t give Frankie the chance to finish that thought. ‘I don’t want to see him.’ When Frankie didn’t move, she added, ‘I thought you were leaving?’

‘I am, but you know where I am if you need some company.’

‘Thanks, but right now, I have a deadline to meet,’ Leanne said, checking her watch. She had only hours left to submit Amelia’s story. The public appeal to find a hero would be launched in twenty-four hours, alongside the feature on Claudia and her charity work; two feel-good stories that didn’t rest easy with Leanne.

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to write this one?’ asked Frankie.

‘No, I can do it,’ Leanne said. She stood to give her friend and colleague a hug, urging her to go before her resolve weakened.

After Frankie had left, Leanne sipped the dregs of her coffee and pulled a face as she swallowed the cold, bitter liquid. She needed to return to the boat and get to work, but first she wrote down the Sedgefield address she had memorised from Declan’s folder.

6

The still waters of the canal reflected candyfloss clouds dissolving in the sunshine. Leanne had wrapped up for her walk, but found herself peeling off her gloves. Autumn was being kind and so was life, she supposed.

She was back in Mal’s good books, having delivered two of the most talked about articles in the Courier’s recent history, and the paper had been inundated with messages since Saturday. It was no surprise that the vast majority were from people offering their condolences to Claudia and promising to donate to her cause. The story had been picked up by other media outlets too. Claudia was going to be busy.

Leanne was more concerned with the response to her second article and, whilst there had been offers to help find Amelia’s hero, everyone Leanne had spoken to so far had only vague recollections. They didn’t want to dwell on the fact that they had seen a little girl on her own and had done nothing. They were parents and grandparents with charges of their own, or they had some other pressing need that had forced them to leave Amelia to her own fate. They went to great lengths to explain their decision to Leanne, who could neither blame them, nor give absolution. She had no idea what she would have done in the same situation.

Continuing on her walk, the canal was quieter than it had been at the weekend and the only boats she saw were covered with tarpaulins, ready for their winter hibernation. She had to squeeze past the occasional fisherman perched along the canal bank, but otherwise she was alone with her thoughts. She followed a path of well-trodden earth while she mentally retraced her steps all the way back to the building that was now a burnt-out shell.