Her name takes on an importance each time it is called. There are now eight of them walking through the blossoming dark. Now and again their identities are exposed brightly in the questioning beam of a torch.

‘ANN-MARIE.’

‘ANN-MARIE!’

Niall takes his turn to shout, deep from his lungs: ‘ANN-MARIE.’ He looks all around as he goes. The shouting has opened something up in him and he shouts again, over another calling voice: ‘AAAAAANN-MARIE.’

‘Ann-Marie.’

Niall whips round and strains his ears to catch the voice again. He counts the search party. There are still eight of them, but they don’t match the voice that spoke. It is becoming hard to see without his beam. A male tawny owl hoots deeply like a gym teacher blowing on a whistle. A female screeches back. Niall shifts the torch to his left hand and sees Vairi standing small and frail by his side.

‘Gave me a fright,’ he says, breathing out.

‘I’m listening,’ Vairi says. ‘Did you hear her too? I know you did.’

Niall doesn’t answer as the rest of the group plough on.

‘It is Christine,’ she says. ‘Yes? Christine.’

‘What …?’ He starts to walk away to catch up and trips over a root.

‘She comes to say hello sometimes. She’s been here.’

He looks back over his shoulder. ‘What?’ His voice is a growl. ‘Don’t be daft. What are you on about? You’re—’

‘Shhh.’ The sound comes from someone else. His torch falls on another member of the search party, their finger to their lips. He walks on in silence.

He thinks he hears a woman singing faintly through the forest.

‘Ann-Marie.’

When the children leave the school building at three thirty, hundreds of white helium balloons wait for them in the playground, provided by a local radio station. A food van is serving hot teas and coffees as surprised parents begin to gather. Dinner ladies bring out a trestle table with free squash for the children.

Another TV presenter is talking into a big black camera in the weakening daylight. ‘If you see anything at all, please phone us, or the police. Help is at hand. We warn you not to approach anyone suspicious. This is a town historically hit by tragedy. Nearly a decade ago, it saw the disappearance of Christine Mackay, an event that shook this tight-knit community to its core, and now there are fears of history repeating itself. Could Ann-Marie be out there with Christine, the woman she knew as a child? Certainly, many people round here can only hope’ – here he pauses for effect – ‘that she is safe. Back to you in the studio.’