They’d met at a council Christmas party sixteen years ago. She’d recently started in Environmental and Community Services as assistant to the director, Ewan was doing some contract work with another department, and their eyes met when they both reached for a tinfoil platter of sausage rolls and mini quiche at the same time. By the end of the evening, emboldened by a steady supply of Chardonnay, she’d thrown caution to the wind and invited him home with her. She wasn’t in the habit of taking strange men back to her flat for sex but Ewan felt like someone she’d known for years. He was so easy to talk to and so attentive and complimentary. He made her feel as though together they could conquer the world.

They got engaged three weeks later, on New Year’s Eve, and were married within six months. The speed at which she became his wife shocked her family, while her two best friends, who she’d known since secondary school, expressed concern that Ewan was pushing her too quickly into making such a big commitment. Now she wished they were still in touch so she could show them how wrong they were. But after the wedding Ewan said he felt uncomfortable in their presence, which she could understand after what they’d said about him, so she’d let the friendships fizzle out.

The door opened and Renshaw and Burton entered. Ewan relayed the incident to them, omitting the part where he’d threatened the woman.

‘You need to put a stop to people thinking Poppy is to blame,’ he said, still simmering with anger.

‘I agree,’ said Renshaw, ‘and the quickest way for us to do that is if Poppy finishes telling us what happened. We can’t set people straight if we don’t know the full facts ourselves.’

‘Are you ready to tell us, Poppy?’ asked Burton.

Julia felt her frustration build as Poppy kept her gaze focused on her lap. Why didn’t she just tell the police what they wanted to know, then they could collect Dylan, go home and put this nightmare behind them. Ewan shot her a glare that made her flinch, as though he’d sensed what she was thinking.

Burton tried again. ‘Poppy? Are you ready?’

Finally she looked up and nodded.

The tension in the room shifted, as though a blast of cold air had unexpectedly blown in from outside. Julia’s anxiety rose to match it, suddenly fearful of what her daughter might say.

Burton glanced down at his notebook, then cleared his throat.

‘Poppy, you told us earlier that Benji wanted you to meet him at school because he knew how to get into the building site. Were the hoardings unlocked when you got there?’

‘Benji had a key for the padlock. I don’t know where he got it from.’