‘Sorry, darling. Did you just phone a minute ago? It’s just that I keep getting these—’

‘No. Look this is urgent. Mervin’s had some more connections with Neil. He says that Neil just sent him a message saying that he’s so fed up with technology and tech teachers and everything to do with computers that he’s going to throw his phone and tablet into the sea. If that happens, Mum, you realise we’ll lose all contact. We have to stop him.’

Trying not to laugh, Theresa bit her lip. She understood exactly what was happening. Now that they knew Mervin was behind the messaging, the two kids were playing up their ex-teacher. But how could she explain this to Imogen without letting on about Chloe’s call? She took a deep breath, praying she was doing the right thing.

‘A few minutes ago, Chloe phoned me, Imogen. I spoke to her.’

‘What do you mean? Did you tell her to stop fooling about and worrying us all to death?’

‘I’m trying to arrange a meeting.’

‘What’s her number? I’ll phone her and make it quite clear . . .’

Theresa knew that, if they were to have any success in getting the kids here, she must not give Imogen Neil’s number.

‘It was a Number Withheld, I’m afraid.’

‘Damn.’ Imogen sounded very disappointed. ‘What were you saying about a meeting?’

‘If things go as I hope they might, tomorrow, or perhaps the next day, Chloe will phone back and agree to meet me for lunch. I left the decision with her.’

‘What do you mean, you “left the decision with her”? Mother, we are dealing with a teenage underage child who’s on the run. You should have been firm. Someone has to stand up to Chloe and force her to come home.’

‘Stop panicking, Imogen.’ Theresa tried to sound calm and not let Imogen intimidate her. ‘Remember “Softly, softly, catchee monkey”.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Mother. We’re not talking about a monkey. We’re talking about a child – my daughter. My fifteen-year-old daughter!’

‘My fifteen-year-old granddaughter.’

‘You’re impossible, Mother. I really can’t waste time talking to you. But next time you hear from Chloe you must phone me instantly.’

‘I would have done, but you phoned me before I—’

‘I have to go now.’

And Imogen hung up.

Theresa felt sure she was doing the right thing. Wasn’t she? At least this way they had some hope of seeing Chloe in person, and then, once she was here, reasoning with her.

Theresa was leaving when she noticed something lying on the doormat.

She picked it up.

Another photo of herself. This one was of her in her wedding gown.

As she flipped it over the front doorbell rang, and Theresa literally jumped a few centimetres into the air.