“Those boys, they sing at night. In the nursery. It’s beautiful.”

In the stroller, the boys tipped their heads towards the woman’s voice. Just as if they knew they were being talked about.

“I heard them talking, too. You know what they call each other?”

Lauren’s voice was barely a whisper. “What?”

Patrick gave the door a kick to open it, and the nurse woke with a snort. “Tea’s up,” he said. Across the room Harper saw the young woman’s focus drift away as she faded into her thoughts again. The babies started flapping their arms and making baby noises. Harper realised her mouth was hanging open and she shut it.

Lauren reached for the tea that Patrick offered, blew on it. She swilled the hot liquid round a few times and placed it on the table, rather too close to the edge.

“Thanks, love.”

“Aren’t you going to drink it?” said Patrick.

“Of course. It’s just a bit hot.”

“Sorry, Detective Sergeant, I didn’t get you anything. Did you want—”

“Oh, no, don’t worry. I just had one.” She felt a little light-headed. The twins, when she turned towards them, did not return her gaze. To look at them now, they seemed like normal babies. But just a minute before, they’d been eyeing her as if they understood everything she was saying.

Harper became serious, remembering why she’d come. “I’m going to show you both a photograph now, of the person we caught. If you could first tell me whether or not you recognise the person, that would be helpful.”

She slid the print on to the table. In it, Natasha was as pale and drawn as Lauren. Her dark hair stood out in unattractive contrast to the skin, white and dry as paper.

Lauren’s face fell. “That’s who you think it is?” she said.

“Yes,” said Harper. “This is the person we arrested at the scene.”

“You’re wrong,” said Lauren, shrinking back against her husband. “That’s not her. I’ve never seen that person before.” Tears began to spill.

“A moment ago, the woman you were talking about, who threatened you, and that you saw outside the house,” said Harper, “this isn’t her?”

Lauren pressed her face against Patrick, shaking her head, no.

“You don’t recognise her at all?”

“No. I just told you, no.”

“What about you, Mr Tranter,” said Harper, “do you recognise this woman?” she didn’t bother to hide the knowing tone, the fact that she already knew the answer.

“That’s Natasha,” said Patrick, without expression.

Lauren drew her breath in and grew still. She raised her face. “Natasha from your work,” she said, “who gave us that weird present?”