Patrick crouched in the car park, struggling to reassemble the stroller. He wrestled the car seats away from the seatbelts in the back of the car and slotted them in place on the frame. As he worked, the boys regarded their hassled father with the same uncanny calmness they had possessed since the disappearance, though their hands occasionally waved in the air. They both made the sea-bird sound a few times, tossing it back and forth between them, copying each other.

When both boys were clipped in, Patrick leaned over the top twin, dressed in yellow.

“Where’s your smiles, Morgie?” He tickled the baby under the chin, rather self-consciously. “You got any smiles for Daddy? No?”

Briefly he bent to examine Riley, who lifted his eyes to meet his father’s with an expression as sombre as his brother’s.

“You too, huh? Well, I guess we’ve all had a long day.”

Wearily he pushed the stroller towards a big sign that said VISITORS THIS WAY. Harper followed on.

At the external door, another buzzer, and the same woman who had spoken through the intercom at the gate asked for their names again. They were let through the first door, which clicked itself locked behind them. Another locked glass door led through to the corridor, but for now they were trapped in the vestibule. A woman with grey hair and huge glasses appeared at a hatch, behind thick glass. She moved her lips but there was no sound.

“Can’t hear you,” said Patrick, tapping his ear to demonstrate.

A speaker crackled into life, the same voice they’d heard outside, with the same grating nasal squeak, slightly fuzzy and not quite in synch with the woman’s mouth. “Forgot the button,” she said, smiling. “Sorry. Here are your badges.”

Under the hatch, a tray popped open and Harper peered inside. There were two name badges that said VISITOR. She handed one to Patrick.

“Are either of you carrying any weapons?” asked the woman, looking at Harper.

“No,” said Harper and Patrick together.

“Any drugs, prescription or otherwise?”

“Um, paracetamol,” said Harper. “Does that count?”

“Yes. Are they in the bag?”

“Yes.”

“Can you put them in the tray, please. What about in the stroller?”

“Only the changing bag,” said Patrick. “Nappies, you know. That kind of thing.”

The woman grimaced, as if nappies and that kind of thing could easily constitute contraband.

“Can you leave the bag, please, sir? I need to check it. Just pop it in the tray. And both of you, your phones, wallets and keys if you don’t mind. You can collect them on the way out.”

After everything was loaded into the tray the inner door buzzed and clicked to indicate it was unlocked.

In the corridor, the receptionist said, “I’ve a note here from Doctor Summer. She wants to see you, Mr Tranter, before you take the boys to see Lauren.”