I look up at the glass doors and try to gather my thoughts. I’m holding a piece of paper with the name of the police officer who visited me in hospital. DS Grayling. The one whose voice reminded me of the girl I shared a room with in the psychiatric unit all those years ago. Hayley Redmond, that was her name. She had light-brown hair and freckles all over her face and chest. I remember she came from Leeds and was a self-harmer. Her arms and legs were covered in scabs and scars from where she had slashed herself. ‘Poor girl,’ my mother had commented on one of her rare visits. ‘She’ll never be able to wear a sundress.’

I try to wash all thoughts of the unit from my head. It’s not helpful to be thinking about the past now. I have to focus, remember that I’m here to find Sean. I have to ignore the pains in my legs, where my underused muscles are slowly coming back to life, ignore the panic that is fluttering through me and start behaving like a fully functioning adult.

But it’s easier said than done and when I step through the glass doors and enter the busy entrance area I feel bewildered. I look around for someone to help me, then I see a glass unit on the left. There’s a large bald police officer sitting behind it. I make my way over and stand for a moment waiting while he finishes typing something into his computer. Then he looks up and nods his head.

‘Hello there. What can I do for you?’

His voice is loud, and I feel small and insignificant in his presence.

‘Erm, I’m here to see DS Grayling,’ I say nervously.

‘You have an appointment.’

It’s more a statement than a question.

‘No,’ I say.

‘Right,’ he says, sighing. ‘Well, it’s going to be difficult to see her if you haven’t got an appointment. Can you tell me what this is about?’

I open my mouth to speak but I can’t get the words out. I look at the man. He glares back impatiently.

‘I was … involved … in an accident,’ I say, the words slowly unlocking. ‘DS Grayling has been investigating it.’

‘What’s your name?’ he says, looking down at his computer.

‘It’s Maggie Allan. The accident happened in the river just outside the Plough Inn. My little girl drowned.’

The man makes an ‘o’ with his mouth and something resembling pity flashes across his hardened face.

‘Let me see if I can contact DS Grayling for you,’ he says, his voice softer now. ‘Bear with me a moment.’

He lifts the phone receiver, presses a button then waits.