“I meant for me. She’ll have forgotten it in five minutes. I’m the one who has to bear it.”

Harper pulled up a chair near to Victoria’s.

“Excuse me, Mrs Settle? I’m a police officer. I wanted to ask you some questions about something that happened in 1976.”

The woman didn’t move or look at the DS. Harper glanced over at Robert, who shrugged.

“Go on,” he said, “you might as well try.”

“It’s about the twins,” said Harper, “your little babies. Robert and Vincent.”

“Where are the twins?” said Victoria, turning her head to look around the room. “Where are my boys?”

“I’m right here, Mum,” said Robert. “Vinny’s in Australia, remember?”

Victoria stared at her son, clutching the arm of her chair until it creaked. Harper saw a flicker of recognition. “Robert?” She reached a hand towards him and he took it.

“Mum?” he said, a wobble in his voice.

She gazed into his eyes. “Where are my boys?” she asked, desperate now. Robert kept hold of his mother’s hand, and she let him.

“Victoria,” said Amy, “we found a newspaper article that said there was a kidnapper in the maternity ward, who tried to take your babies.”

“Yes,” she said, taking her hand from her son’s and glaring suspiciously at him before turning towards Amy. “Yes. Horrible woman. I stopped her. She was going to take my boys. But I stopped her.”

“I didn’t know anything about this,” said Robert. “Who was it, Mum? Who tried to take us?”

“Where are they?” said Victoria, glancing around despondently, but she was drifting off once more. “Did I lose them? I keep on losing things.”

“Can you tell us anything about what happened, please?” said Harper. “What was she like, this woman? Can you describe her at all?”

But Victoria stared at that spot on the wall, and didn’t speak.

Robert turned to Harper and Amy. “I don’t think you’ll get much more out of her today.”

Harper said, “It was worth a shot. Thanks for letting us try.”

As they turned for the door Harper heard Victoria gasp and turned back. The older woman’s hand flew to her mouth and she said, “That woman. I remember now. She had her own babies, horrid little things they were too. She wanted to swap them for mine—for my perfect bonnie lads. Ha. I remember now. ‘No,’ I said, ‘no no no, get away with you.’ I had to kick her. Good and hard. I’d do it again.”

With the word kick she kicked a leg out and nearly caught a slippered foot on the bed frame. Her hands fluttered by her sides and she glanced frantically from left to right. “Are they here? Where are the twins? Have you seen them? She’s not having them. She’s not.”