He drove past the school gates, going as slow as he dared without drawing attention to himself. It was just gone nine. A few parents were hanging around, chatting, looking tired but relieved. Six hours without bloody SpongeBob. Six hours to be an adult.

She wasn’t there.

At the top of the road he turned left, found the pedestrian crossing where Thomas Saunders had died. No sign of his mother.

He’d spent the night driving around, up through Cleckheaton, past the library, then across to north Leeds, trawling the area where she’d lived when she was married. Gwyn was keeping him up to date on the search. The black Renault had been found abandoned a few miles from Tong. Her own car was still missing, but it hadn’t been tracked over the course of the night. So they had no idea how she was travelling. If she was travelling.

As dawn stretched into morning, his tiredness had gradually been replaced by something more penetrating; a sense of escalating dread, a nausea at the thought of himself, his own existence. Of how things had come to this.

He turned and came back, parking just short of the school building then walking as far as the gates. They’d know by now. It was on every news bulletin. A former parent. Tragic accident ten years ago. That parent. There’d be a police team here soon enough, just to check that she hadn’t been back, to see if she still had any contacts in the area. No stone left unturned. Press too. They’d be here in no time.

Better not show up at the school. Not now. His face would be on the news too. It was a toss-up as to who was a bigger hate figure: a two-time murderer or the dickhead copper who let her get away. Ex-copper? Perhaps. Even Andy had rung to tell him to stay out of sight.

He gave her another call. He’d been calling her all night. It always went straight to voicemail. Meanwhile, an unmarked car pulled up. A young man and woman got out and made their way purposefully into the school building. They were coppers. Had to be.

He drove back up towards the site of the accident, going over the report in his head. The nanny had collected him from school. They’d walked up the road, turned left. Halfway down they crossed the road… She’d picked up the child from school, and they were going home… They crossed halfway down.