I’m sure she didn’t buy it but, thankfully, being three, she could be distracted by the allure of colourful TV characters and ice cream for dinner. Beth worried me. Her reaction was so visceral, as if any sense of innocence at the world she still possessed at fifteen had just been ripped from her.

She’d cried until she threw up and then she lay facing me on my bed while I stroked her face and tried to comfort her. But how could I? I couldn’t say everything was okay – because everything wasn’t okay. A woman she considered her aunt had been murdered. It would colour everything in her life from now on. She’d carry it with her.

I held her until I heard the front door open and the call of Paul from the bottom of the stairs, followed by Molly excitedly telling him she’d had three different flavours of ice cream for her tea. Her trauma was forgotten, or buried at least. I hoped it would stay there.

I didn’t cry when I saw Paul. I suppose, just as I’d expected to break down when I saw Julie, this surprised me. He sat on the edge of our bed and hugged a still-snivelling Beth, soothed her in the way he used to soothe me. Reassurances whispered into her hair, promises that he’d look after her. I drank in the tableau of father–daughter love in front of me and I felt another piece of my heart get chipped away.

When did Paul and I stop meaning everything to each other? When did the sight of him stop soothing my heart?

‘I’ve to go to the police station, make a statement,’ I said, breaking their moment.

‘Surely you don’t have to do that tonight?’ Paul asked, his face tilted, brow furrowed. He nodded surreptitiously towards Beth, as if to tell me she needed me more than the police did.

‘I want to do whatever I can to help,’ I said. ‘I want this man found, Paul, and soon. They want to build a complete picture of her life.’

‘But it’s weeks since you saw her,’ he said.

‘We talk, Paul. You know that. She’s one of my oldest friends.’

I was starting to feel irritated now. I felt myself tense. I knew I was being terse with him and it wasn’t right – not in front of Beth. Not now.

‘Of course,’ he said, almost apologetic. ‘You do what you need to do. Should I come with you?’

I bristled again. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I think it’s best you stay with the girls. I don’t think Beth here is in any state to mind Molly. Are you, Beth?’