Colin’s mother smiled. ‘She wasn’t properly dressed, you know. But she looks a picture now, doesn’t she? These are some of my Susan’s things. Lucky that I’d kept them all this time, isn’t it?’

I lifted Cassie into my arms and held her tight. She settled herself astride my hip as she had so often done before. I could just hear Paul, outside the flat, talking rapidly. He had found Penny’s number, stored in my phone. Yes, yes. She’s fine. Safe, yes. No. Nothing at all.

I was hot again now, and trembling with relief. I didn’t want Cassie to feel me shaking in case it frightened her. From all around the room the huge eyes of the other child gazed down at us. She looked nothing like Cassie – she had a thin little face and pale straight hair. The only point of similarity was the clothes and hair ribbons. On an otherwise empty shelf I saw the bright-red case we had made for Colin’s recipe collection, with his name tooled on the spine.

I turned slowly to face him. ‘Why did you take her away? Didn’t you know how worried everyone would be?’

His cheeks turned a dull red and his lower lip protruded. His mother wound up the musical box and set it tinkling again.

‘I was coming to see you and Penny about my new book and the kiddie was there in the yard. She said she wanted to play. She’s a nice little thing, even though she is a half-caste. It was hot so I walked her down to the canal. I don’t usually go down there because you get all sorts hanging around, you know. Druggies and blacks and whatnot. But it was nice seeing the boats. And you easily can walk from there to here. Although generally I prefer to take the bus because it’s safer. Especially with all this fighting and that going on.’

His voice was the same as usual, prim but sounding as if his tongue were too big for his mouth, and he told his story without hesitation. I replayed the route in my mind’s eye. The canal route was direct. By road it was twice the distance.

‘I used to have a little sister, you see,’ Colin confided. The whole apartment testified to that. ‘But she died.’

His mother heaved herself to her feet. She was tiny and as frail as a bird. Colin towered beside her. She said, ‘Don’t talk about that now, love, or it’ll get us all upset. Let me put the kettle on. We’ll have a nice cup of tea and maybe a bit of cake.’

‘All right,’ Colin mumbled and she patted his hand. ‘I brought her home to say hello to my mum, you know.’