‘Dominic, please,’ Fran cries, ‘please sit down and let them do their job. Please.’ Her voice breaks, and Dominic sits back down next to her, pulling her tight, even though her shoulders are rigid. I say nothing, my mind working overtime at the thought of there being a search of the house.

‘Is there anybody I can call for you?’ Kelly has slipped quietly into the room. ‘Anybody who you might like to come and sit with you, your parents or . . .’

‘No,’ Fran says shortly, shaking her head. ‘I haven’t seen my father for years, and my mother lives in Dubai. There’s not a lot she can do from there.’ Despite her faded pallor, and the way she wrings her fingers together, there is a hint of the old Fran in her clipped tone.

‘What about Polly?’ Dominic asks.

‘Polly?’ Fran snaps back at him. ‘Don’t be so bloody ridiculous!’

‘Sorry, can I ask . . . who is Polly?’ Kelly asks, as I look on in confusion. I have no idea who Polly is either.

‘Polly is Fran’s sister,’ Dominic sighs, scrubbing a hand over his eyes.

‘Yes, my sister, who Dominic can’t bear.’ Fran gets to her feet. ‘In fact, Dominic can’t bear her so much that I lost contact with Polly years ago – just to make Dominic happy.’

‘Oh, come on, Fran, that’s not strictly fair . . .’

‘Mr and Mrs Jessop.’ DS Wright’s voice cuts through the thick, tense atmosphere. ‘Please.’

Fran sits back down, on the edge of the armchair, out of Dominic’s reach. ‘The last I knew Polly was living somewhere in the Scottish Highlands, but that was ages ago. My mother keeps in contact with her, Polly regularly goes over to visit her.’

‘Right. Anna? Anyone you want to contact?’ DS Wright turns to me and I shake my head slowly, trying my hardest not to shrink away from her gaze. There is no one, not right now. ‘Seeing as we don’t have any leads so far, I wanted to ask you if there is anyone you can think of who might want to . . . who might have a grudge against you? Who might have taken Laurel. Anyone suspicious hanging around, anyone you may have felt uncertain about?’

‘No one that I can think of,’ Dominic says, a deep V appearing between his brows as he frowns. Dominic wouldn’t notice anyone hanging around though, I think, he’s never here. As the words float through my mind Fran speaks.

‘How would you know, Dom? I mean really, how would you know? You’re always at the hospital.’

‘There hasn’t been anyone hanging around,’ I butt in, before they start sniping at each other again. ‘I’m the one who spends most of my day here, at the house, or out and about with Laurel and I’m certain I haven’t seen anybody unusual or suspicious hanging around.’