‘Chloe.’ Her hand springs to her mouth as if she’s sworn at him. She swallows and wipes the tears away; they’ve always been so close to the surface these past few weeks. Unable to speak, she fixes on the latest school photo of Chloe and Emily; their toothy smiles, heads tipped together.

They both stare up at the picture on the shelf above the fireplace. PC Dolan’s eyebrows rise as he takes in the dozens of sympathy cards and teddies huddled around it.

‘Our youngest died of meningitis three weeks ago,’ she says, struggling to swallow the lump in her throat.

‘Oh goodness, I’m so sorry,’ says PC Wright.

‘She was only five.’ She sniffs and presses her lips together.

‘I’m very sorry to hear it.’ PC Dolan dips his head. Tiny pearls of sweat line his top lip. ‘This is clearly an extremely difficult time for you already. Is there a relative or friend you can call to support you?’

‘My neighbour Sarah will be here soon. She’s picking up our seven-year-old, Emily, from school.’

‘Good, good. A Family Liaison Officer will be over to assist you.’ He rubs his palms together. ‘I’m sorry, but I need to ask, what has Max’s behaviour been like over the last few weeks?’ His voice is softer now and his head nods up and down a little.

‘He’s not been here a great deal; he’s a builder and decorator you see, works away a lot.’ Her hands find their way to her belly and rest there. She takes in a breath to control her emotions. ‘We’ve not talked much lately.’ She covers her eyes. If only he’d answered his phone. ‘It’s been a terrible time. We’ve all been so…’

‘I understand.’ He pauses. ‘Is it possible to have a recent photo of him?’

She rocks back in her seat as though a bullet has skimmed past her. They think he’s dead. She tries to focus on the framed photo of Max on their last holiday only a few weeks ago, his blond hair caught up in a breeze, arm around his surfboard like it’s his best buddy. She points to it on the TV cabinet, and PC Wright reaches across and hands it to her, but Maddy’s all fingers and thumbs and the frame crashes to the floor, glass cracking across Max’s face.

Maddy gasps and covers her eyes. Without saying a word, PC Wright picks up the frame, unclips the back panel and slips the photo out. Maddy fetches a dustpan and brush, which the policewoman takes from her and sweeps up the glass.

‘I brought along everything that’s been found.’ PC Dolan’s hand hovers in mid-air. ‘Could you… would you mind?’