‘The drag marks were caused by them,’ DS Wright tells us, ‘apparently the girl sneaked out through the cut fence to watch the fireworks. When they found her, she didn’t want to leave. Had a paddy by all accounts, and they ended up dragging her back to the caravans. They only arrived yesterday evening, a little before the bonfire started. Officers had already spoken to them late last night and told them to move on today.’ Her face twists in something like disapproval.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper again, ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘There’s nothing you can say.’ Fran has appeared back in the doorway, faint smudges of mascara beneath her eyes revealing she has shed yet more tears. ‘It was a mistake, Anna. You weren’t to know that it wasn’t her. Us sitting here crying isn’t going to help get Laurel back, is it? DS Wright – is there anything else you can tell us?’

I blink back tears, frantically trying to rid myself of them before they fall. Fran is right, sitting here crying won’t get Laurel home to us. Although slightly forced, Fran seems to be trying to channel her usual brisk self, and I guess that is the only way she can cope with what is happening in this house right now – to try and keep control of events the way she always does. I can imagine her sitting upstairs, beating herself up, punishing herself for her emotional outbursts and hating herself for losing control.

‘Well,’ Wright says, pushing her dark hair away from her face and gratefully accepting the hot tea that Kelly thrusts in her direction – she’s good for refreshments, if nothing else – ‘we have made some headway following the initial door-to-door enquiries.’

‘Really?’ Dominic lifts his head and gazes around the kitchen. ‘Why are we only hearing about it now?’

‘As you can understand, checking out the possible sighting of Laurel became our priority, and I have only just received the most recent updates from the team that are carrying out the enquiries.’

‘So, what is it?’ The words tumble out before I can stop them and Fran stares at me, putting me back in my place without saying a word. Laurel is her daughter, not mine. Wright doesn’t appear to notice though.

‘There has been a report of a child matching Laurel’s description getting into a car along the lane from the bonfire last night, at a time that corresponds to when Laurel went missing.’

‘What?’ Fran whispers, her face a chalky white. She licks at her lips and raises a shaky hand to her mouth to wipe at it.

‘Obviously, we are taking this witness very seriously, and we will be investigating further,’ DS Wright says, glancing between myself, Fran and Dominic, as though wanting to make it absolutely clear that this could also be another dead end.