‘Wait. Wait just a moment, please. Look, I’ve already been in touch with her mother, who said she’s spoken to her, but that doesn’t mean Leah is safe, or well. That she didn’t sound worried doesn’t mean much at all in this case. I know Leah and I genuinely believe she may be in danger. Listen, Leah is a very vulnerable person. Especially now. She’s fourteen weeks pregnant. I believe she could be at risk of violence, or even suicide or serious self-harm. Please. You need to make this a priority and find her, now.’

Another long pause on the other end, and a slow release of breath. ‘I’ll make a note of this, Dr Moss. And I’ll make sure someone looks into it.’

‘Thank you.’

I don’t know what I expected, but I suppose I thought the police would leap into action and immediately start looking for an unaccounted-for pregnant woman with a provably violent ex. After all, how many calls like that do they get on any given Friday afternoon in this sleepy country? I’m going to have to assume that the policewoman will look Leah up and find the previous reports she made against Anton, prompting them to take real action.

I go through to the kitchen and stand at the sink and look across the rooftops toward the silvery top branches of the trees in the distance. They are the king’s trees I’m looking at – we’re that close to the royal palace gardens. I wish there was something for me to clean, something dirty needing my attention, so I could spend time rubbing hard at an old piece of food stuck to a plate with the coarse end of the sponge, or rinse some delicate champagne flutes, but there is nothing. All the surfaces are smooth, the gold-veined black marble glinting in the spotlights. My husband always cleans up after himself if he’s made a mess or fixed a snack, leaving the scent of disinfectant lingering on the air, even though he knows our cleaner comes twice weekly. Souvenirs of his year in the military, and growing up without a mother, he says.

I need you to— said Leah, interrupting herself, before walking out. But what did she need me to do? Please please please come, said her note, followed by the address to her cabin.

This is about the truth. I feel queasy just hearing her words in my head. Her hand was cold and dry when it brushed briefly against mine as she handed me the envelope. Her eyes were already elsewhere, as if she had left long ago and it was just the outline of her that remained there with me in that room.