Maisie knew that much was true, and this was a desperate house. She could so clearly picture Rave using a rope to climb to and from his second-floor window. She could picture him locked into this room, dreaming of something better and brighter. She could feel his frustration and his desire to get out. She could picture him running. A new year a new start … But could she picture Jeremy not just following but actually leaving his own home without a word? It just didn’t make sense. Maybe at first he’d tried to talk Rave out of it. Maybe he’d even tried to talk him into coming to Maisie … Maybe they had tried and she hadn’t listened, hadn’t seen or just wasn’t there enough. What if Rave had come for help when she was with Fred? What if he was so desperate that Jeremy felt he had no choice but to go with him in her absence? Why didn’t I just say no? I could have been there. I could have helped. She was running away with herself now, guilt consuming her. This is my fault.

‘The kid doesn’t have a lot of clothes. He could have packed some,’ Tom said, looking at the photograph. ‘They’re about the same size and weight.’

‘They could definitely share clothes if they left in a hurry,’ Fred agreed.

‘So what are you saying? That they’ve run away but they’re safe?’ Maisie asked, with hope in her voice.

There was a beat of silence before Tom answered: ‘All we can safely say at this stage is that the boys are officially missing.’

‘Maisie,’ Fred said gently, taking her arm, ‘we’ll put out an alert and canvass the locals for any more sightings. Everything is in hand. We’re doing everything we can.’ She didn’t pull away this time but she didn’t lean in either. He was trying his best but she was too busy keeping her growing anger at bay to placate him. What’s the worst that can happen, Fred? Look around.

‘I’ll call this in, get the wheels in motion,’ Tom said.

Fred steered her out and away from the room that looked nothing like a teenage boy’s should. At the top of the stairs Maisie paused. She wasn’t sure if Sid was just asleep or if he’d died right then and there: he was slumped over and still. She noticed some pint glasses filled with a dark brown substance under the broken telephone box and by the door. Is that urine? Oh, God. It is. She felt hot and dizzy. She wanted to be sick. She breathed in and out, shallow breaths, with her sleeve jammed against her nose. Fred walked down before her and nudged Sid as he passed.

‘Where’s your missus, Sid?’

Sid stirred and Fred knelt in front of him. ‘Dunno. Don’t care,’ he said.