Alan set his notes down next to him on the sofa and stared at them. The right thing would be to give them to the police and accept the consequences, but was he ready to do that?

Yes, he was. The time had come to put an end to the whole sorry saga. He would have a shower, smarten himself up, then hand himself in to the police.

Standing under the streaming hot water, he could feel the tension washing away. He actually felt good about the decision he’d made. Finally the boy’s mother would be getting the justice she deserved.

He dried himself off in the bathroom, then fastened the damp towel around his waist to head into the bedroom, stepping over the clothes he’d discarded on the floor on his way.

The doorbell rang as he pulled on a clean T-shirt. He moved stealthily to the window to see if he could spot who was on the doorstep, but the angle of the bay meant he couldn’t tell. But he heard more than one voice, so he knew it wasn’t Mr Lincoln again, coming back to use his shoulder for another self-pitying cry.

It was probably house-to-house chuggers, who he hated even more than the ones who stopped him in the street. It felt intrusive, being asked to cough up on his doorstep. He pulled on a pair of jeans and headed downstairs ready to tell them to sod off, but as he yanked the front door open his heart leapt into his mouth.

‘What are you lot doing here?’

‘Don’t sound so pleased to see us,’ said Gayle, smiling.

Alan barely had time to react before Freddie launched himself forward. Stunned, Alan hugged his son back, then he reached an arm out to grab his youngest daughter, Kyra. His eldest, Lacey, hung back, trying to look as though she was unmoved by seeing him, but as tears began to steadily roll down her cheeks she stepped forward to be enveloped into the same embrace with her siblings.

‘I’ve missed you all so much,’ said Alan tearfully, raining kisses down on his children’s heads. ‘I can’t believe you’re all here.’

He looked up at Gayle, who was also in tears.

‘I don’t understand,’ he said.

‘I was worried when we spoke earlier and then when I tried calling again and you didn’t answer I thought you might’ve –’ Her voice cracked. ‘I would never have forgiven myself if the kids never got to see you again. I told their schools I needed to pull them out for an emergency and we drove straight down.’

Alan was too choked to respond. His family had come for him. He couldn’t believe it. As he ushered them into the house, wiping his tears with the back of his hand, he remembered the notes on the sofa.