He had waved Melissa goodbye at airports, his arm tight around his special girl. Cheap, last-minute trips with shared bedrooms – That’s normal, he said to Izzy when she objected once. I have to keep you safe. Safe. Melissa enjoyed the break too, if she’s honest, pockets of calm in her life. She’d encouraged those breaks. It was their bonding time, she’d remind herself as she returned to the house and the calm of nights on her own. It seems so obvious now – how could she not have suspected, even for a moment?

‘In your witness statement, you say you can’t remember a time when you weren’t close to him.’ The barrister looks at the judge then Izzy. ‘Is that statement, in the light of what you’ve now told us, a truthful one?’

‘When he lay on top of me, I had to take off my clothes. That’s pretty close, isn’t it? And I can’t remember anything further back than that. What he did to me has blocked it all out.’

The picture is vivid. Melissa closes her eyes. The barrister persists, though it must be obvious to her that she’s losing the battle. ‘You also say that you can’t imagine him hurting another child.’

‘That’s true too. It’s so awful to imagine what I went through actually happening to someone else that I don’t. I just can’t.’

Paul’s face is ashen, even his lips are pale.

‘Why have you waited till now to come forward?’ The barrister’s face is pale too. Her lipstick looks garish against the pallor.

‘He said it was our special secret and that Mum would commit suicide if she knew.’ A tear trickles down Izzy’s cheek – Izzy, who never cries. ‘He said I’d have to go to some special place for kids.’

‘But you’re telling us now because …?’

‘He’s tried to hurt Sorrel and he’ll try again with someone else.’ Izzy leans forward, her face flushing a brighter pink. ‘He likes girls when they’re little. Sorrel’s six, like I was at the beginning.’ Her words tumble out fast as if she’s been waiting a long time to deliver them.

Melissa can’t see Paul’s face any more, it’s buried in his hands.

‘Do you have any actual evidence of your father’s violence?’ The barrister’s voice is quiet.

‘My mum’s sitting somewhere in court – look at her face. It probably doesn’t count, but that’s his doing too.’