Eight sixteen. Melissa replaces her phone in her tracksuit pocket and runs home fast, rain stinging her face. She gets straight into the car, checking her Fitbit: 200 calories. Better than nothing, she can make up the rest later. She drums her fingers on the wheel as she waits for the traffic lights to change. The crowds swarm over the crossing, the downpour crackles against the windscreen. In Wiltshire rain will be falling on that soft green lawn, the view across the valley will be shrouded in soft mist.

A horn blares behind her, the lights have changed, the traffic inches forward. She’s scarcely a mile away but the roads are crowded. It’s rush hour and everyone drives when it’s raining. By the time she reaches Eve’s house, she is panicking; they’ll all be late for school. Izzy doesn’t reply to her text so she parks the car in the road and hurries up the drive. The back door is wide open and rain is driving in. She can hear Poppy shouting and Sorrel crying somewhere. Eric greets her, his mouth set in a grim line. Melissa’s thoughts dart to Eve’s secret.

‘Izzy asked me to do the school run today,’ she tells him. ‘Where’s everyone?’

Eric is soaking wet. His eyes scan the garden beyond her; something is wrong. He hasn’t heard a word she’s said.

‘Are you okay, Eric?’

‘We can’t find Ash.’ His eyes are wild. ‘We’ve looked everywhere.’

‘He won’t be far.’ She’s never seen him like this before, she puts a hand on his sleeve. ‘What can I do to help?’

‘Get in out of the rain, Melly. Eve’s inside.’ He disappears through the door into the garden.

Eve is wearing a man’s shirt, she is hunting through a tall cupboard, strewing thick coats on the floor. The dog rolls luxuriously in piles of heavy tweed and cashmere.

‘Let me help you.’

‘Ash hid in here recently; they were playing a game and he was frightened.’ Eve pulls out a couple of Barbour jackets; her face is white, her voice trembling. The tracks of tears shine on her cheeks. ‘Martin rang when I didn’t turn up for the school run; he said Ash has to be hiding somewhere.’

Close up Eve smells faintly of stale alcohol. Her eyes are bloodshot and bright with fear.

‘I’m sure Martin’s right.’ Melissa tries to speak calmly, ‘Izzy used to do this on purpose to worry me, it drove me frantic.’

‘He’s only three, Melly, he won’t be doing anything on purpose.’ Eve wipes her eyes on her cuff with a savage gesture, smudging mascara.

Even at three Izzy knew how to make her suffer, but Melissa doesn’t mention that. ‘He can’t be far, he’s not old enough to go very far.’