Pamela texts me several times over the Christmas period, but it is the last week in January before I manage to arrange a time and place to meet with her. Part of me is nervous at hearing what she has to say but desperate to know what news she has, and the other half doesn’t want to see her at all – she lied to me, tricked me, and I trusted her. I try to ignore the fact that Fran must feel the same way about me deep down.

We meet at a pizza restaurant in the centre of South Oxbury and I feel as though I have to watch over my shoulder in case Fran appears, even though she’s told me that she’s decided to stay on with Polly at her rented cottage in Norfolk for a little while. I enter the restaurant ten minutes later than we agreed, not wanting to be the first one there. Glancing around, I see Pamela sitting in a corner booth, tucked out of the way of the rest of the diners, a large glass of red wine in front of her even though it’s barely midday. Weaving my way through the room, I tug off my scarf and reach the table before she’s even realised I’ve arrived.

‘Pamela.’

She looks up from where she is shredding a paper napkin across the table, her fingers worrying at the paper and leaving confetti-like shreds all over her skirt. ‘Oh, Anna. I didn’t think you would come. You didn’t seem too keen to get together.’ Her tone isn’t bitchy, or snarky, she just sounds incredibly tired.

I slide into the seat opposite and look at her more closely. Her skin is pale and blotchy, spots breaking out in a little rash between her eyebrows. Dark circles ring her eyes, a faded bluish-purple, and her hair, usually styled and bouncy, hangs limply around her face, her fringe ever so slightly greasy. In short, she doesn’t look too dissimilar to the way Fran looked when Laurel disappeared.

‘Sorry. It . . . feels a bit strange, you know. How are you?’ I feel I have to ask the question, even though it’s clear from what I see in front of me that she isn’t coping too well.

‘Oh, you know. It’s difficult, but I have to be there for Dominic, especially now Fran has abandoned him.’

‘I wouldn’t say abandoned as such, he took Laurel and is refusing to tell the police where she is. Fran has accepted that Laurel won’t be coming home alive now, but the decent thing would be for Dominic to confess to everything and at least let Fran bury her daughter. He owes her that much.’