Tony looked down. ‘She lived with her aunt. My sister, Janet.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes, I’m afraid so. It was … hard. My other daughter, Kirsty, lived with me.’

‘What was the reason for Rebecca – Bex – living with her aunt and not with you?’

Tony jumped up. ‘I forgot the biscuits.’ He opened a wall-mounted cupboard and fished out a biscuit tin which he placed on the table with a flourish. ‘Only Rich Tea, I’m afraid.’

‘Thanks.’ Jai was straight in there, as was the aged Labrador, who’d done a Lazarus-like manoeuvre and was now sitting staring dolefully at Jai while he rummaged in the tin.

‘Ignore him,’ Tony said. ‘Burglars could maraud through the house unimpeded as far as he’s concerned, as long as they didn’t open any food containers.’

‘Aw,’ Jai said. ‘He’s hard to resist.’

I smiled. He was indeed hard to resist. I blamed those hypnotic eyes. ‘So, Bex went to live with your sister?’ I said.

‘Yes. My wife, Nina, and I split up. Nina was from the Ukraine and she returned there when Bex was only three. I found it difficult to cope with two children.’

‘Nina left the children with you?’

He nodded. ‘I suppose she thought they’d have a better life here. I was terribly upset with her at the time, but now I think she was suffering from depression. I should have given her more support.’

I spoke gently. ‘If Bex didn’t live with you, is there a chance she could have had a baby eighteen years ago?’

‘She was only sixteen. And Violet was sure her mother was dead. I tried to call Bex, but she hasn’t got back to me. Then I phoned Kirsty, to see if she knew anything about it, but she didn’t. I can’t ask my sister – she died of breast cancer two years ago.’

‘I’m sorry about that. We will need to speak to Bex. You say she took your sister’s surname when she went to live with her?’

‘Yes. Smith. For all intents and purposes, my sister adopted her. It was much easier with schools and things if she took her name.’

‘Okay. We’ll take her contact details from you.’

‘Oh Lord.’

‘Before we go, we’d like to clarify – the missing girl, Violet, was born in May 2000. When did you last see your daughter before and after that date?’

A look of shame crossed his face. ‘She stayed here for a month the summer before that. I haven’t seen her since 1999.’

‘Is there a reason you haven’t seen her?’

He swallowed. ‘She doesn’t like coming to Gritton, and it’s hard for me to get away, what with the animals.’

‘Why doesn’t she like coming to Gritton?’

He looked out of the window at the old rose garden. ‘I think she just has a very busy life. She’s a dog trainer.’