‘I’m sorry. It was only one. What more can I say?’

‘Yes, so you keep saying. But one is one too many, Dale. When are you going to get that into your thick head?’

Kesey glared from one to the other. ‘I need you both to stop now. Remember why you’re here, focus, we’re here for Lottie. We’re here to help find her. And believe me, you two arguing isn’t going to aid the process one little bit.’

Both parents offered their profuse apologies but Kesey could almost feel their mutual resentment quietly festering. The detective checked her watch for one final time. ‘Right, it’s time to get in there.’ She took a packet of extra strong mints from her bag and handed one to Dale. ‘Suck, chew and swallow. You don’t want to be still eating when you sit yourself down. Have I made myself clear?’

Dale popped the sweet in his mouth, nodding his understanding as Kesey led them towards the door. She stopped before turning the handle, speaking in hushed tones for only them to hear. ‘Right, this is it. Are you both ready? If you’re going to argue, do it later. For now, I need you to present a united front. And Dale, I don’t want you swearing – even once – while we’re in there. We need the media on our side. Do you think you can do that for me?’

Both parents nodded but said nothing more.

Kesey pushed open the conference room’s double doors, entering first with the estranged couple close behind, to be met by a barrage of clicking, flashing cameras and lively journalistic chatter, the members of the press baying for the next big story. All three stopped, steadying themselves, gaining their bearings before sitting behind two adjoined, white cloth topped tables at the front of the room, directly in front of a large West Wales Police logo.

DS Lewis, who was already seated and waiting, nodded his welcome. Lewis noted the recently applied sticking plaster covering the first two knuckles on Dale’s slightly swollen right hand, and grinned knowingly, chuckling quietly to himself as he pictured the scene. Lewis suspected he knew exactly what had happened. The injury told its own story. But it wasn’t anything the sergeant felt inclined to investigate.

Kesey checked her watch, letting the seconds tick by until the time was precisely right. She looked out on the three rows of seated journalists, some with cameras, some with notepads, and raised a hand in the air to silence them, half expecting them to continue talking.

You could have heard a pin drop as Kesey stood and spoke, the faint hint of a Welsh accent combining with her Midland nasal tones. ‘Okay, it’s time we made a start. I want to begin by welcoming you all to West Wales Police Headquarters. Thank you all for attending. I hope we have a productive morning. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Detective Inspector Laura Kesey, the lead officer, or SIO, on the case.’