The lights in the room were unnaturally bright. The wall behind me was extremely white. But the wall behind Maxine, which I was facing, was a mirror of glass. It was a safe bet that it was one-way glass, and my performance was being assessed from the other side of it, in a darkened room. I imagined Maxine’s boss, Martin, behind the glass, enjoying the peep show but appearing bored.

‘You’ve known the Hargraves family for how long?’

‘Since I was four. Most of my life.’ I felt my lips trembling. My body was not under my control. I was losing it. Why did this woman scare me so much?

‘Tell me about them.’ Maxine settled in her chair, ready to be entertained.

‘Peggy is the mother, James is the father. They have a daughter.’

There was that smile again. The indulgent kind you give to a difficult child. ‘And the daughter has a name, I presume?’

‘Sorry. Yes. Milly.’ Maxine knew this already, despite the pretence. I’d given permission for them to interview friends and family. I’d had to, though there weren’t many. Peggy, James, and Milly. My list of three, because my grandmother hardly knew what day of the week she was living any more.

‘You and Milly are very close, aren’t you? Best friends, as they say.’

‘I’d never tell her’ – I flapped around for the right phrase – ‘anything I shouldn’t.’

‘Of course you wouldn’t. Milly’s family moved next door when you were four?’

‘Yes.’ Elaboration was not my friend.

I reminded myself that these were the easy questions. The seemingly innocuous warm-up questions to lull me into the false sense of security that would get me to mess up and reveal every vulnerability I’d ever had. My stomach knotted, and I tried not to let myself panic about what might be coming.

‘And you moved in when?’

‘I was born in that house. My grandmother moved in to look after me when my parents died. Milly’s family bought the house next door just before the two of us started school – she and I are the same age.’

‘Your grandmother was quite old when she became your guardian, wasn’t she?’

‘Yes.’

Maxine smiled again, and I shivered so hard it must have been visible on the other side of the one-way glass. ‘That can’t have been much fun for a small child.’

I tried to think of what to say to this, but I took too long, so Maxine went on. ‘You are close to Milly’s mother? Peggy, you said?’

‘Yes.’

‘Peggy must have seen you as a poor little neglected orphan.’ Maxine was a combination of effortful glamour and mess. Her hair was bottle-blonde but lank. Pieces of different lengths hung in front of her face, as if she’d hacked at them herself.

‘I think she probably did, yes.’