‘I do miss her, you know,’ he’d said. ‘I wish she could see how the kids are growing. Ava’s coming to an age where she needs a mother’s influence, if you know what I mean.’

‘I can have those kind of talks with her if you want,’ I’d offered.

‘That would be good,’ he’d said, turning the page.

I remember looking over his shoulder, when I noticed something strange. There were blank spaces in the album. Spaces where pictures had been stuck in but where now only remnants of backing paper were left stuck to the glue. I hadn’t taken them out. I hadn’t looked at those albums in a long time.

By my reckoning, the missing pictures were the ones Laura had taken herself when we’d loaned her our camera to take into the school fun day. We’d been so excited when she’d shown us pictures of groups of girls. Girls she’d said were her friends. She was in some of them herself. Maybe standing to the side. Not grinning at the camera like the rest of them but offering her small, shy smile instead. She’d insisted we put them in the album and we did as she’d asked.

‘That’s strange,’ I’d said. ‘There’s some pictures missing. I’m sure I didn’t take any out.’

‘Do you think maybe Ava did? Or Max? Maybe they wanted a picture of their mum.’

My heart had contracted a little at the thought of the children smuggling pictures of their mother out of the house.

‘Sure, all they had to do was ask,’ I’d said, my heart too sore at their loss to be cross with them.

They’d run back into the room and I’d watched as their father asked them to sit down, then asked them very solemnly if they’d taken any pictures from my photo album.

Both children shook their heads.

‘It’s important to tell the truth,’ he’d said.

‘I didn’t take them, Daddy,’ Ava had said and Max just shook his head.

‘It’s okay if you did. I know you love your mum very much. I just need to know,’ I’d said.

They’d both looked at me.

‘I swear, Granny, I didn’t,’ Max had said.

‘Me neither,’ said Ava and I could see her bottom lip wobble a little.

I’d no desire to upset the children over a couple of photos, so I’d told them I believed them. I’d made sure to give them extra hugs and slip a fiver into each of their hands before they left.

It had felt like order was restored in the world and I’d sat down to bask in the memories of a mostly very lovely afternoon.

It still didn’t answer the questions about where the photographs were, though, or who’d taken them.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Rachel