‘Passport please, madam.’ The border control guy already seems bored, and I’m catching the first train out of Folkestone this morning. I try not to let my fingers tremble as I hand my passport over, doing my best to rustle up a ghost of a smile. ‘Anyone else travelling with you?’ He leans over and gives the back of the car a cursory once-over.

‘No,’ I say, my throat dry. ‘Just me.’ Laurel’s passport is back at the house in South Oxbury – not that I could have ever used it to travel, not with the whole country knowing her name. I hold my breath as he peers at my passport once more, his eyes going from my face to my photo and back again.

‘Have a safe trip.’ He waves me through, and I almost want to vomit I am so relieved. I give him a shaky smile and pull away, as calmly as I can, heading towards the train, and Calais.

By the time the train reaches Calais, I have managed to snooze for half an hour, waking only as the guy on the train scans my ticket, worry gripping my stomach as I pray that Laurel won’t wake. She doesn’t, and as I drive off the train and on to the motorway, the sky is lightening, tiny, wispy clouds dotting the deep blue, with streaks of pink and orange marking the sky as dawn arrives, announcing a new day. The first day of the rest of our lives.

A sense of calm washes over me, as I look in the rear-view mirror at the little bundle on the back seat. I did it. I got her away, to keep her safe with me. Tears spring to my eyes, blurring my vision and I have to blink them away, quickly. The roads are empty, and I put my foot down, eager to get as far away from England as I possibly can. I am humming along to the radio, the music turned right down low, when I hear Laurel moving around in the backseat. As I glance in the rear-view mirror, her tousled head appears from the beneath the blankets, and she looks crumpled and confused for a moment, her cheeks flushed with sleep. She frowns for a minute, obviously bemused by waking up in a car, and then her eyes meet mine in the mirror and she gives me a little grin, and I see the gap in her teeth where she’s lost a bottom front tooth.

‘Hello, sleepyhead,’ I smile back at her, giving her a little wink.

‘Hello, Anna,’ she smiles back, ‘where are we going?’