A sudden rush of fear, or guilt, or possibly both, descends like icy water through my chest. This isn’t a game. This is real life. Her life. Maybe mine. If she has found her way up here, what do I say to her? Is it time to come right out and say what I think? Is it even possible? She can’t have been that young when she left this baby. Not really. Sixteen, maybe seventeen. Old enough to know better, surely? Maybe it’s all in my head. A fantasy.

The letter should be with Kat. Or the police. It shouldn’t be on its way to a man I’ve never met, whether it’s addressed to him or not.

What was I thinking?

A lay-by appears by the side of the road and I swing into it, pulling up sharp, the lake sprawling out before me. The enormity of my stupidity dawns on me. I’ve hidden from this for the last year, since David and I read our adoption files. I’ve sat beside Susan in the hospital and not said a word. What makes me think I’d do it now if she were here? And what makes me think that this James Grey knows where she is, or where she might be? Do I really want to find her? I mean sure, I want her to be found, but by me?

I escape the van, suffocated by its heat. I fight for breath in the cool air by the water, bracing myself against the drystone wall. Cars speed along the road, forcing a rush of hot air against my back. I’m five minutes away from this address - I look at my watch - and I’m a good three hours from home.

A light breeze ripples the water, dancing up, down and across the lake. The surface sparkles as though it’s flecked with tiny diamonds and a boat is propelled by a breeze caught in its voluminous sail. The people on it wave in my direction, but I turn away, reaching back into my van for my phone. It rings as I pick it up. ‘You are not going to believe what I have just seen, Rhys!’ Mum is practically clucking down the phone line. This must be gossip.

‘Mum, I—’

‘You know the new postman, the one who replaced the guy who nicked birthday money from people’s cards, that one? Well, I’ve just seen him come out of Doreen’s house up the road, her granddaughter behind him all suspicious like.’

‘What does suspicious look like, Mum?’ I sigh, my body forced against the wall by the air from a passing lorry. I press my finger to my ear so I can still hear her. ‘Oh, you know, Rhys, both tucking shirts in, glancing over shoulders as they run away.’

‘Mum, sorry, can this—’ I try to interrupt her but she’s in full flow.

‘If Doreen had any idea of what was going on, I swear to God she’d have a coronary. Her heart’s bad as it is, she’s on them tablets for it now, you know. And I’m sure her granddaughter’s barely legal.’