Kat thinks about her own block of flats, so close geographically, but a world away in terms of expectation. There could be a whole gang of drug dealers inside one flat and no one would raise an eyebrow. ‘How do you know? Did you speak to the police?’ While Kat’s voice would malfunction if she got anywhere near a police officer, she bets Sally has no such qualms. Her boss loves working front-of-house, swooning over puppies and giving advice to owners as she hands dog treats out to their pets. It’s what makes them the perfect working partnership, because Kat much prefers hanging out with the dogs in the grooming room.

‘No, I read it on MyNeighbour. Put up this morning by that Saskia Tomes who’s always posting stuff. She told a right old story, all about the woman who found the guy, how she tried to save him. There’s even a picture of her, with a really cute dog. Hang on, take a look …’ The work keyboard rattles as Sally’s fingers fly over it. Then she swivels the computer screen around until Kat can see the familiar lilac logo on the web page. The top post shows a close-up of a beautiful woman in her mid-thirties with her arm around an apricot cockapoo. Kat’s eyes widen and she leans closer.

‘How did she try and save him?’ she asks, staring at the photo, ignoring the body of writing underneath. The woman’s eyes are striking. She reminds her so much of … Kat feels hot suddenly and has an urge to scratch her face.

‘Phoned the ambulance, did chest compressions and all that. No first-aid training whatsoever, just her instincts kicking in apparently.’ Sally screws her eyes in thought. ‘Not sure I would have been brave enough.’

‘She was all alone?’ Kat asks, still staring. The similarity is mind-blowing. Could it be her? Nearly two decades on? She peers a bit closer. She looks more polished, and the name is different, but that doesn’t mean anything; she could easily have changed that. And perhaps it’s not surprising that she’d want to start over after everything that happened. But living in London? Near Kat’s work?

‘Yes, on her way home from a night out apparently. God, can you imagine? Having to get up close and personal, all on your own, not knowing if the man’s going to die, vomit or mug you?’