I have to carry on. I have to get through to Tuesday and go to social services. By then I will have all the evidence I need. Louise shocked me a bit, if I’m honest. I wasn’t expecting her to lay into me, so I soothe myself with Facebook. The screen lights up the dark car interior with a soft glow and I see that someone has made an #allgirlstogether Facebook page which has over 800 likes. The thread started by fake Alicia has grown and has 403 comments. This story is writing itself and I close the lid and relax a little. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I can put the final phase of my plan into action.

It’s late and I go inside the hotel to the bar. I almost order a large vodka, but then realise where that would take me and order a Diet Coke. I sip it as I perch on a bar stool in the corner. An elderly couple are sitting silently by the fire and there’s a works do going on in an adjoining room muted by a pair of closed double doors. A guy is standing just outside the doors talking on his phone. He glances over and our eyes meet. In different circumstances I would have drunk myself stupid and tried to sleep with him and I’m quite proud of my moderation as I discount it.

I open my own laptop and log onto the 192.com website. I type in my sister’s name. Paula Lord. And Manchester. Three records come up. One of them is a postcode for a flat in Chorlton. The other occupant was a P. Goldring. That bloke she was living with. Then I type in Jack Atkinson. Registered as living at Missy’s. I try to shout in my head, Jack, Jack, Jack, but I can’t picture him. I panic. He’s really gone. I hold onto the edge of the bar. I feel like I’m falling, falling, falling fast into a deep ravine. Alone. I really am alone now.

It feels strange. A sudden sense of freedom that comes from not being attached to Jack any more. Like there actually is a future and I can be part of it. Do something. I can see what’s happened more clearly with this detachment.

I stare at my Diet Coke and long for the burn of alcohol in my throat. He must have been there when I put the bag in the house. He’s been there all this time. That’s why Missy wasn’t arrested. Because he lives at the property where the bag was found. DS Percy wouldn’t be able to arrest her because he would have dropped the charges and told them that he had made a terrible mistake.