My mind tried to return to when Mother and I had danced, so I stuck my head out of the window and looked at the fields and the sky and the wide, open space of the outside. Cool air rushed at my face, soothing my aching head. The policewoman passed me back a can of something called Coca-Cola that I had never tasted before. I liked that too even though it made my teeth feel sticky.

We drove through countryside, past sheep and cows and beautiful sleek brown horses. I saw a few rabbits and more fields and more trees and bushes and a stream and then I saw houses, and more houses and I realized we were in an actual village or town. The policewoman said something but I didn’t hear her. I looked down at my cleaned, bandaged hands and watched them shake. I was beginning to feel nervous and cold, so I wound up the window and let my head lean back against the padded headrest. Tiredness dragged me down and I fell into a heavy, dead sleep.

‘We’re here,’ the police officer said.

I opened my eyes and looked out of the car window at a big building called Bristol Royal Hospital for Sick Children. I didn’t like the name of the hospital. A shiver ran across my neck and I snuggled down into the blankets that the policewoman had piled around me. I stared at the huge, ugly, brown building and tears swam in my eyes. I didn’t want to go in there. I didn’t want to be inside. I wanted to be in the outside. I wanted to be free.

The car engine cut out and the radio went dead, cutting a slow, sad-sounding song in half. The policewoman told me to stay where I was and got out of the car. I closed my eyes and pulled the blankets up over my head. I wanted to stay where I was. Good luck to whoever was going to try to get me to go into that horrid building.

I heard the door next to me click open.

‘Polly? Polly, it’s OK. There’re some people here you need to meet,’ said the policewoman, her voice thick as if she was trying not to cry.

I stayed hidden, safe in my blankets, taking strange comfort in my self-inflicted darkness. The blankets were warm and soft and they smelled like soap. I squeezed my eyes shut. There was a moment of silence then I heard a woman’s voice. A different voice.

‘Polly? Baby? Is that really you?’

My heart somersaulted. I recognized something in that voice. My brain seemed to click awake at its sound. Slowly, I unpeeled the blankets from around my face and stared at the fair-haired woman standing next to the police officer. She inhaled sharply. Silent tears spilled down her cheeks.

‘Polly? Oh my goodness. My little girl. My baby.’