My beautiful daughter blinked up at me, her eyes red and puffy. In that second she looked very much like my little girl again, not the young woman she’d blossomed into. My heart ached for her. She shook her head.

‘Okay, then,’ Paul said. ‘I’ll stay here with the girls. Maybe once Molly’s in bed, we can order in some Chinese food?’ he said to Beth, who nodded.

‘I’m going to get a shower and change into my pjs,’ she said and stood up.

I hugged her and told her that I loved her before changing into a linen skirt and white T-shirt.

‘Dressing up for the police station?’ Paul asked.

‘Hardly,’ I said. ‘But my blouse is a bit stained, with tears and make-up from our beloved daughter, and I just want to be comfortable. I’m hot and sweaty, and I don’t know how long I’ll be there.’

Suddenly, I was very tired. And hungry. I realised I’d not finished my lunch, or eaten anything since, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep anything down now if I tried.

‘Well, hopefully they won’t keep you too long,’ Paul said, standing. ‘I’m really, really sorry this has happened,’ he said, pausing to look me up and down before leaving the room.

I’m sure he was talking about Clare, but he could just as easily have been talking about the ongoing disintegration of our marriage.

As it happened, I wasn’t in the police station all that long. Less than an hour. I didn’t have much to tell them, really. I just let him copy all the messages from Clare from my phone then talked about her life and if there was any way she could have enemies.

Even the thought of Clare Taylor having enemies was laughable. She was the most easy-going person I knew.

Of course they asked again about her new man, but I couldn’t tell them much more than what I’d told them at Julie’s. He was handsome, according to Clare, and kind-hearted. He’d insisted on paying for dinner on their first date. But that was about it. I didn’t have his name. There weren’t any pictures of them together anywhere. I didn’t know where he worked or even where he was from. I’d assumed he was a Derry man, but I didn’t know for sure. We’d just never had that conversation. Clare had always been one to play her cards close to her chest and that was okay.

‘Maybe I’ll introduce you all at our annual August barbecue,’ she’d told me, ‘if it keeps going well.’

They asked me how Clare got on with her ex-husband, James. Was there any residual animosity between them?