The only time I actually achieved any kind of relief was in the in-between vodka trance I drank myself into on a regular basis. Now, it turns out, I don’t need to. Because Laura wants to see me. I’m still celebrating inside when Lewis and Sam come into the kitchen. DS Percy stands up and they prepare to leave.

‘Nothing. We’ve found nothing at all.’

I nod.

‘So will you be bringing my stuff back, you know, the laptop and that?’

She smiles. ‘As soon as they’ve finished. I don’t expect they’ll find anything of interest on there either.’

‘Yeah. Well, at least it’ll put a stop to this.’ I wave vacantly at the boxes. They all look at the sea of insipid cardboard packaging. ‘I’m going to speak to someone about it tomorrow.’

They leave and I watch them drive away. I stand on the doorstep for a while. It’s quite exciting really. The thought of calling social services and making an appointment to see them. To arrange to see Laura. I don’t even care if your mother comes with her, I can handle anything now. The thought of stepping up my game, of catching you in a trap of your own making.

As soon as they’re gone, and they’re not coming back, I pick up the phone and dial the number on the letter. My children. I have a chance. The first ring. The second. I look around. What if the social worker says she is coming round tomorrow? What if she wants to inspect the house before she makes a decision? Third ring. Fear sets in. I desperately want this, but I need to sort myself out. And I need to sort you out. I reluctantly replace the receiver and the fear subsides a little.

One thing that I need to do is to move the journal and Monica’s computer. A load of random shit in the hole is one thing, but those in particular would incriminate me. Oh God, what have I done?

I wait until sunset then I take my wheelie bin around the front of the house for collection. The fucking dog starts to bark and I make a show of rolling the bin about until he’s in a snarling frenzy. Then I creep around my back garden and retrieve the things I need from the hole and go to work.

I’m going to need a car. I know that I’ve got money in the bank – but when I check my internet banking on my work computer I’m shocked. Even after all the booze and Amazon purchases, all the direct debits and standing orders for things I use once then forget about, I’ve still got over fifty thousand pounds.