Before I can let the thought grow, I pull on my waterproof jacket and march out of the flat and onto the street, holding Bear back when he tries to say hello. I can’t let Dan think any of this is OK.

‘Gemma, I’m so sorry you had to find out all the bad stuff about me. I planned to tell you, but I kept losing my nerve. Also, I’m sorry for how I reacted when you told me about your treatment, it’s an amazing thing—’

I hold up my hand. ‘Don’t. We’re doing this for Casey, and once she’s back, I never want to see you again.’

He nods. ‘I appreciate you saying you’ll help at all.’ His clothes are crumpled and his face is so bloody sad that I don’t know if I can stay businesslike.

‘The cafe first? And then the Downs? I can let Bear off.’

Dan stares into the jeep. ‘I might have something of hers that he could sniff and then see if he can smell her nearby?’

‘He’s not a bloody police dog.’

‘No. Sorry, I’m not thinking straight.’

‘Have you called the police?’

‘Angelica will have. She turned up at the hospital and realized Casey had done a runner. I’m not – I’m not living at the penthouse any more.’

‘I know that.’

Dan looks away. At least he still feels shame.

We work through everywhere I can think of. I talk to Pepe in the salon, but he hasn’t seen her. In the cafe I show them Casey’s picture and give them Dan’s phone number. No one remembers seeing a girl like her today – and she is distinctive, thanks to her pink-toned hair and her sweet, sweet face.

Not just distinctive. Vulnerable. A country girl lost in the city. I’m getting more worried: my sister was always running away when we were kids, but we were in a small town that we knew backwards, and we couldn’t walk down the street without some busybody recognizing us.

Bristol is different. Casey is different.

The Downs are sodden from the storm and although the rain has stopped for now, the black clouds promise another downpour. We let Bear off the lead, but he rolls in the mud and gets frustrated when we don’t throw the ball for him.

Dan’s phone keeps ringing: his friend’s son calls and swears he hasn’t seen Casey, but tells him about the places she wanted to visit: the zoo, to see meerkats. A skateboard shop, to buy her own.

Dan thanks Harrison, but when he ends the call, his face goes grey. ‘It’s like a needle in a fucking haystack. And she’s still not been on WhatsApp. She spends her whole life on WhatsApp.’

‘She could be out of battery.’

‘Or someone has taken her. Or she’s had an accident. Or the tumour has made her lose consciousness and—’ He stops. ‘I promised Angelica we’d find her. But what if we don’t, Gemma? What if she’s really gone?’