‘Are you OK, Fran, I mean . . . really? After being at the police station?’ My stomach rolls as her cigarette smoke wafts towards me. What I really want to say is, did they tell you I lied? Did they tell you I’m not Anna Cox? I wonder if I should say something now, or would that tip her right over the edge?

‘I honestly don’t know, Anna.’ No, they didn’t tell her. I have to say something, I have to tell her before they do.

‘Fran, I need to tell you something.’ My stomach lurches, and for a horrible moment I think I’m about to be sick. ‘It’s important. And I want you to know that I never meant for it to be like this . . . it was never anything personal.’

‘What?’ Fran squints at me through her cigarette smoke, her eyes narrowed.

‘The thing is . . .’ I gulp. ‘My name isn’t actually Anna Cox. Something happened in my past, something that wasn’t my fault, and when I applied for the job with you I gave you a different name. I’m sorry.’ I wait, sure now that she’ll tell me to leave, just get out, and then it’ll all be over.

‘What? What do you mean?’ She lowers the cigarette from her mouth as she frowns, her lips pursing. ‘Anna . . . you’re not Anna Cox?’

‘No. God, Fran, I’m sorry, I know I’ve massively messed up . . .’

‘Just shut up for a minute.’ I watch as I see her trying to process what I’ve said, her lips moving as she mouths my words. ‘If you’re not Anna Cox, then who the fuck are you?’

I take a deep breath, knowing that once I tell her my real name there is no going back. ‘Charlie. My name is Charlie Seddon.’ And I pause, waiting for the penny to drop.

‘Charlie Seddon?’ Her eyes widen in horror as she looks me over, raking her gaze over my badly bleached hair, my skinny frame, so different to six years ago, making the connection between me now, and the photographs in the newspapers back then. ‘Oh my God. You’re Charlie Seddon? You . . .’ She starts to pace, flicking the cigarette to the floor, her feet slipping slightly on the damp paving slabs. ‘I can’t believe this. Charlie Seddon. You absolute bitch.’ She stops and glares at me, a muscle working in her jaw as she tries to control her anger.

‘Fran, please. It didn’t happen the way they said it did – I swear I never did anything wrong! And I would never have hurt Laurel, you believe me, right?’