Becky desperately wanted to interrupt to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing – a girl alone – driving to an isolated spot in the middle of the bloody night! But she didn’t. She would save that for later, and anyway, she had a sneaking suspicion the girl might not have been alone.

‘Go on,’ she said, keeping the sense of rising excitement from her voice.

‘I’d been there for about fifteen minutes when I saw a car coming. It didn’t have its lights on.’

Becky listened in silence as Sharon told her everything that had happened: where the car had gone, who had got out, and the woman or child who had not returned.

‘When they got out of the car together, did you get the impression the man was forcing the woman to go with him?’ Becky asked.

‘No. If I’d thought that I would have found a way to call you lot. She didn’t appear to be struggling or anything and could easily have legged it when she first got out. And I don’t know for certain that the driver was a man – I never saw his face, so I suppose I just assumed it was.’

‘Do you have any idea about the car – make, model, colour? I suppose the registration number would be going too far?’

‘I’m not much into cars. I was more worried about getting away myself, to be honest. The car was a dark colour, not a hatchback – you know, it had a proper boot and everything, big but not massive. Sounded expensive, though. It kind of purred, if you know what I mean.’

‘Sharon, I’m sorry to ask you this, but were you definitely on your own? Because if someone was with you we could talk to him or her privately to see if they could add anything.’

Sharon gave a small gasp. ‘Gosh, you’re not a police officer for nothing, are you? I was on my own, as it happens. But…Oh, never mind the rest of it. Honestly, there was nobody else there. Just me. But there was something else. He took down my number plate, and I think he’s trying to find me, maybe to find out what I know.’

There was no mistaking the note of panic in Sharon’s voice.

Becky tried to reassure her. ‘It’s quite hard for a member of the public to track down anyone by their car registration number, unless they can provide a good reason for doing that. What makes you think he’s trying to find you?’

‘Someone called the house. Said he was a detective. My boyfriend spoke to him. It was him, I’m sure.’

Becky thought for a moment. ‘Can you hang on for a minute or two, Sharon? I’m going to make a couple of enquiries to see if we can put your mind at rest.’