‘It’s fine, honestly. I know what it’s like. I can’t do anything right with Amelia at the moment. She doesn’t even want to spend our holiday with me any more,’ Maggie found herself blurting out. What was it about being in a car next to someone that made the space feel like a confession booth? ‘If it’s any consolation, I’m not sure I’m handling the teenage years at all well. Quite badly, in fact.’

The two of them exchanged a small smile of understanding before Maggie, now shy at having revealed her vulnerable side, turned back to the map on her knee. She didn’t really need it – she’d been this way already when she and Amelia went to Pendennis and was a good, instinctive navigator, but felt as if she was more useful with a physical prop to consult. Also, any excuse to have a map on the knee. It was like a comfort blanket. ‘We’re coming up to a bridge over the river,’ she said, tracing a finger along the lines. ‘And then you need to take a sharp left out of the village.’

Em slowed as they crossed the charming stone humpback bridge, then took a left. ‘They probably went along here on their bikes the other day, come to think of it,’ she said. ‘The teens, on their naughty trip into town,’ she added, when Maggie looked blank.

For some reason Em flashed Maggie an expression that she couldn’t quite interpret. A grimace of disapproval? What did she mean by ‘their naughty trip’ anyway? What had been naughty about it? Em was already speaking again, though, before Maggie could ask.

‘That’s why I assumed she would head into Falmouth,’ she said, suddenly fretful. ‘But what if she went completely the other way, just pedalled off, without a clue where she was going?’ She bit her lip, staring anxiously ahead. ‘She’s a really sensible girl, but maybe it’s been too much, George coming with us on holiday – that’s my boyfriend, by the way. Man-friend? I don’t actually know what to call him. We haven’t been together for long and it’s the first time I’ve dated anyone since my divorce, so . . .’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Sorry, too much information. Shut up, Em.’ The road widened and she picked up speed. ‘Oh, where is she? I’d have thought we’d have caught up with her by now.’

They turned a corner to see a small beach on their right and Em slowed once more, both of them scanning the car park and beyond for signs of a teenage girl on her bike. Nothing. ‘This is probably pointless,’ Em said. ‘Maybe I should have waited for her to come home again, rather than dashing out in pursuit. But I just felt I had to do something. If I can find her, at least she’ll know I care.’