When the two of them arrived at the house, Emily was back hovering by the front door waiting for the social worker. Laurie had disappeared and Susan shuffled off too, still humming, to a room at the end of the corridor. There was the sound, very loud, of a television game show. Holly found Jane in the kitchen making tea.

‘Did you get what you wanted?’ The woman turned round. She’d been slicing cake and still had the knife in her hand.

‘I’m not sure.’ And what business is it of yours, lady? Perhaps it was the resemblance to the schoolteacher, but Holly found herself distrusting this woman. Disliking her at least. ‘Tell me about Susan.’

‘Ah, poor Susan. She has a history of depression and psychotic episodes. In and out of mental hospital. They tried everything from talking therapies to ECT, but I’m not sure there’s ever been a reliable diagnosis. She seems quite stable at the moment.’

‘Has she been here for a long time?’ Holly sat down at the table, took out her iPad and discreetly started to make notes. She tapped out what she could remember of her conversation with the women on the walk. Vera liked these things word-for-word.

‘More than two years. We’re supposed to provide temporary accommodation in an emergency, and honestly she should be moving on, but it suits her here and I’m not sure that I’ve got the heart to ask her to leave.’ Jane poured two mugs of tea. ‘Where would she go?’

‘She said she used to live on Harbour Street in Mardle.’

‘Did she? I’m sure she has no family close by. Social services would have checked.’ Jane joined Holly at the table.

‘She told me that she knew Margaret Krukowski years ago.’

‘Really, you shouldn’t take too much notice of what Susan tells you.’ It was Jane in schoolmistress mode again, patronizing. ‘She gets confused, hears things that people say and repeats them, or turns them into a narrative about herself. She’d make a very unreliable witness.’ The words sounded almost like a warning.

Then there was a commotion at the door. It seemed that the social worker had arrived early for Emily after all. The girl rushed into the kitchen with her holdall to say goodbye and Jane went out to the car to see her off.

‘I hope it works out for her,’ Holly said, when Jane returned.

‘Aye, well, I’ll not hold my breath. Last time her mother could only cope with her for one night and was outside social services with her in the morning, waiting for the office to open. She has problems of her own. A new partner with money, but no time for Emily. This time social services will have closed for Christmas, and I expect I’ll have to pick up the pieces.’ Jane must have realized that she sounded hard. ‘Sorry. Compassion-fatigue. I’m just tired.’