He sighs. ‘I’m knackered. This is odd. Not just her, it’s Niall. Eh?’

Lauren squeezes her eyes closed.

‘We don’t know,’ Craig continues. ‘Need to be safe.’

Their voices dip, and Lauren moves closer to the wall but can’t catch the words. Soon she hears Craig ask for the keys, close the door and speed away in his car. The house ebbs back into silence and Lauren pulls the bobbled duvet over her head to think. Under the padding she hears the shrill call of the phone again and pokes her head out to listen.

‘Yes, that’s right. He’s away out. Don’t worry, Angela, we’ll do all we can. No, no, she hasn’t heard anything. Oh, right, I see. Diane. OK, well, like I say, Craig’ll have a wee look around.’

Lauren wonders what Diane might have to do with things. She tries to imagine a situation in which her father and Ann-Marie have ended up spending time together, but it’s such an odd idea, like a rabbit eating a dog, instead of the other way around. Billy’s walkie-talkie is lying by the side of her bed. She takes it under the covers. ‘Billy,’ she whispers. ‘Are you there, Billy?’

Only static answers as she puts the radio down on her bedside table.

She tries to sleep, but her body is too alert. Impulsively, she reaches for the radio again. ‘Bill—’

A young woman’s voice replies, ‘Go to sleep, Lauren. Stay in bed.’

Lauren jumps and pushes the device off the table. She looks around, as if the young woman might be in the room with her, but she isn’t. The radio bounces on to the floor and the battery flap springs open. The static stops and the room is silent, except for the ticking of the clock.

There is a gentle knock on the door again and Kirsty peers her head around the side. ‘Everything OK? You made a noise.’

‘Oh, did I? I’m fine.’

‘You mustn’t worry.’ She begins to close the door, her head tilted to one side.

Lauren looks down at the floor. She feels a little silly, because the woman doesn’t seem real any more. ‘Kirsty?’

‘Mmm-hmm?’

‘Where’s Ann-Marie?’

‘Ann-Marie is being a silly teenager …’ Kirsty tightens her grip on the door. ‘She’ll be with friends or something. She’s on holiday at the moment, isn’t she? Craig’s out and I might … nip out too, so you’ll sit tight here, won’t you? You’ll try and get some sleep now? I can give you one of Billy’s school jumpers for tomorrow. Or we can drive past by your house.’