‘I’d be careful if I were you,’ says the policewoman. ‘Mr Ray can file for a restraining order if you cause too much of a nuisance. You don’t want something like that on your record.’

My eyes squeeze together. ‘He saw me coming a mile off today. Of course he did. You’ve been primed. That’s what he’s done. He’s prepped you. Had you ready and waiting for me.’

‘Mr Ray didn’t contact us,’ says the policewoman. ‘His wife did.’

‘He put her up to it.’ I turn to the window again.

‘I think you need to go home and have a nice rest.’

I won’t rest until I get my daughter back.

The police car drives further down the village high street, past the small supermarket, past the playground. A woman chasing a toddler down the street turns as we passes. I recognize her; she’s a teaching assistant from Liberty’s old primary school. When she sees me in the police car, her mouth falls open. I raise my hand and wave. She stares like I’m a lunatic. But who cares? Like I say, it’s not as though I have a social life around here.

‘Do you have a friend who can pick up your van?’ asks the policewoman.

‘No,’ I say. ‘I don’t do friends anymore. You never know who has a Michael Reyji Ray album hidden in their collection. And you can’t ask to see people’s music library – you look like a weirdo.’

The policewoman glances at her colleague. ‘Where are you from originally, Miss Miller?’

‘San Francisco.’

‘I have a cousin near there,’ says the policewoman.

‘In California?’

‘New York.’

‘That’s about a thousand miles away from San Francisco, but okay.’ I stare out of the window again.

There’s a long pause, and then the policewoman says: ‘So … you’re from the States originally?’

‘Yes.’ My eyes fix on the little cottages lining our village high street.

‘What made you settle in the UK?’

‘Michael. He flew me here.’

‘You never wanted to go back home then? After you had your daughter?’

‘It … wasn’t convenient.’

‘Don’t you have family out there?’

‘A big sister.’

‘Do you get along?’

‘Of course we get along.’ I hope the police can’t see tears coming. ‘She’s the best sister anyone could ever ask for. She brought me up. She looked after me when I was sick.’

‘But you’ve chosen to live away from her. Here. In this country. Near Mr Ray.’

I hesitate. ‘It just worked out that way. Moving here. I knew the area.’

‘You haven’t seen Mr Ray since you’ve moved here?’

I look out of the window. ‘No.’

The car slides to a stop outside our house.