‘Julia, let me explain,’ I say, taking in that her plaited hair is a shade lighter than the last time I saw her. Not that I’d got to know her when she appeared that day, telling Detective Inspector Beynon that she’d been staying at the farmhouse looking after the cat and working on her graphic novel, while her father was away. I hadn’t had the headspace to properly take her in at the time.

She narrows her eyes. ‘I remember you,’ she says. ‘Amelia Taylor, isn’t it?’ Her words are clipped. Sharp.

‘We’re looking for a teenage girl,’ I say. As though it’s perfectly OK to have entered the house uninvited. God it’s hot in here. ‘She’s missing from the holiday site.’

She widens her eyes. ‘Are you sure? It was only a year ago that your sister went missing wasn’t it?’

‘It was, yes.’ I’m miffed by her flippancy.

‘Have you any idea how much damage that did to my father’s business? People stopped coming here for months.’

I’m fuming. ‘Well, have you any idea how devastating it is to lose a sister? To have no idea where she is? To walk down a street and imagine you see her everywhere?’ I’m close to tears – cold, scared, desperate.

Julia stares at me for a long moment. ‘You know nothing about me,’ she says, and drags her plait over her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry for your loss, really I am, but it’s unlikely another girl has disappeared. She’s probably just gone walkabout. And didn’t the police decide they’d taken off together – Lark and that good-looking chap dating the woman with cancer?’

Anger bubbles. ‘My mother you mean—’

‘Oh yes, that’s right. Sorry. Totally forgot.’

‘The police left the case open,’ I spit. ‘And it’s not only Elise who’s missing, Ruth is dead – murdered.’

‘Christ! Ruth? Murdered?’ She covers her mouth, and her flippancy drains away, as her eyes fill with tears. ‘Oh God, are you sure?’

‘Yes, there’s no doubt,’ I say, my voice calmer. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that.’

Julia shakes her head. ‘The poor woman – and Finn, how is Finn?’

‘Not good, as you can imagine.’ A beat. ‘He’s about somewhere. Is your father here?’

‘He’s away.’ She flicks a tear from the corner of her eye. ‘As you probably recall, I stay here when he’s abroad. Funny, I hated living here as a child. It was so lonely, but now I crave peace.’ She seems lost in her words, her voice low. ‘Although I love living in Eyemouth, it’s good—’

‘You live in Eyemouth? My father lives near there.’