‘Rhys,’ I shout, running after him as he and James set off.

‘He’s right, let’s try to find her first,’ shouts James, blipping his car locked as I catch them up.

‘Rhys, please, give me your phone, let me call them.’

‘This way,’ says James, breathless as he runs up the hill. It’s almost nine o’clock; the sun has faded but there’s still a pinkish light in the sky.

A helicopter scans the field and I wonder if they are looking for her here. I wonder if I am needlessly worrying because they’ve beaten us to it. James ducks around bushes and suddenly there before us is a graffiti-tagged, red-brick building previously hidden from view. I swallow. James, Rhys and I stand beside one another, looking at the building.

‘Susan?’ James calls out, tentatively. None of us move. There’s no response to her name. No sounds at all. Glassless windows show an inside held in near darkness. It’s Rhys who moves first, taking two steps towards the paint-peeling, wooden door before pulling up short. ‘I can’t do this,’ he says. ‘If she’s in there, I can’t see that. Not again.’ He drops back and I take hold of his hand.

‘I’ll go,’ says James. He doesn’t move to begin with, but eventually, carefully, he takes steps towards the door. ‘Susan?’ he tries again, but I don’t think any of us expect her to answer. He reaches to hold the wall, steadying himself as he navigates his way around litter and overgrown weeds by the doorway. He swallows as he looks to the sky, then pushes the door open. It catches on the uneven ground before flying open and banging on the inside wall, making us all jump. I hold my breath as he steps inside.

He’s out of sight, just for a second, before we hear him shout out. ‘Nothing.’ He steps back out. ‘She’s not here.’

‘Shit,’ says Rhys. ‘Shit!’ he repeats, louder, lunging forward to kick the side of the building. ‘Shit, shit, shit!’ he shouts, turning around with his hands on his head.

‘Rhys…’ I reach out to take his arm. His eyes are wide with fear. ‘Come on,’ I say, pulling him away from the house. ‘Come on…’ I turn around to see James walking away. I shout after him. ‘We really need to call the police now, let them know you’re here. You might be able to help them. Do you have your phone?’ But James carries on walking. I look to Rhys, whose eyes are still wild. I pull him along, taking his hand in mine. We follow James away from the little building and back down towards the car park. We approach a pathway and James comes to a standstill, looking across to an old oak tree.

‘James?’ I say, as he changes direction towards the tree. He crosses the field; a group of friends are packing away a game of rounders. They stand back to let us pass through their group. ‘James?’ I call again, but he doesn’t respond. He just keeps walking towards the tree. Rhys and I follow at first, but I feel Rhys pulling me back, making me stop and wait as James carries on.