I recognised Deirdre immediately from Sean’s photo. As well as Gill, there was another adult male in the photograph. I’d need to find out who he was. The second photograph was another posed shot, this time a foursome: Deirdre, Gill and two other teenagers, both boys, wearing different uniforms which meant that they were from different schools. I didn’t recognise the uniforms but, as they had name tags, I could find out who they were and talk to them.

In the four-person photo, Deirdre was standing beside Gill with the boys on either side of them. Deirdre and Gill were standing close to each other. They looked happy, and the boys looked happy. It seemed like everyone was having a great time. I took both photographs, the large group and the foursome. I would write a note on the page that had wrapped them confirming that I’d borrowed the two of them to get them copied. But I stopped before I wrote anything. The page wasn’t blank. Created on a computer and not specially printed, it was an A3 promotional poster publicising a schools workshop which read:

FREE SHORT FILM WORKSHOP FOR SCHOOLS

‘GETTING IT MADE: IDEA TO REALITY – AND HOW TO AVOID THE PITFALLS’

(CASE STUDY WITH FILM-MAKER AND Q + A)

THURSDAY 10AM–1PM

TEACHERS ONLY PLEASE CONTACT EDUCATION OFFICER

LIMITED NUMBERS – BOOKING ESSENTIAL

The poster didn’t mention Jeremy Gill but, given that the page was filed with the rest of the Gill memorabilia, he could have been the one giving the extra schools-only workshop. The education officer of the time – whoever that was I didn’t know but I’d find out – would be able to say how it had come about. I photocopied the poster and slipped the copy and the two original photographs into my bag. I was fairly sure nobody in the office had noticed.

As I placed my note in the file I told myself that that was nearly the same as getting permission. And that I’d return them on Monday. Then I put everything back and had a quick look through the fifth box. But there was nothing more: all the Gill material was in the file I’d checked already. I re-stacked the boxes on the shelf where I’d found them, said goodbye to Sarah-Jane, and left. I had a photo of Gill and Deirdre Carney together. That was better than I could have hoped for, though I still had nothing directly on him and I knew it.

As I walked home, I repeated to myself that I had to keep an open mind, that Jeremy Gill might not be the one who had attacked Deirdre, and that there must be other suspects. There was no need to remind myself of what else I’d learnt that day, but it was hard to take in, all the same: a surprise sister found and lost.