She had only baby photographs of Jamie in her purse. He said he had a more recent one at home, even though she pointed out it was still likely to be years out of date. He asked what their son was wearing, but she had to admit she couldn’t remember for sure. Even when he tried to confirm their son’s age, his tone suggested it was her fault neither of them could remember if Jamie was fifteen or sixteen. Alan quietly confirmed it for them as his father pulled up and rushed into his office ahead of them.

The last time she’d gotten out of a car here, the whole world had changed.

The day before Christmas, seven years before, she’d carried the small orange suitcase full of toddler’s clothes into this police station. The unworn shorts and T-shirts inside it were now evidence, and she’d realised how vain it had been to imagine that leaving the shop labels on meant it wasn’t really shoplifting.

Beck kept telling herself it was totally different now. Nobody could blame her for Jamie’s disappearance. Teenagers have minds of their own. She repeated it to herself until she found the way to use it as a crutch to get herself out of the police car.

Alan stirred and walked in her wake. As they approached the front door, she could hear Daniel on the phone. His familiar voice drew her through the old screen door into the shade of the reception area.

Her ex-husband replaced the receiver and drummed his fingers on it, like he was calculating who to call next. As his eyes caught sight of her, he plastered a smile across his jowls.

Despite his confidence, a bristle of panic passed through her. The last time she’d been in this room, Daniel’s face had been full of blind loyalty as his colleague, Senior Constable Kevin Bailey read out her rights.

The phone rang. Daniel snatched at it.

‘G’day Macca. Look, we’ve got a teenage truant who might turn up over your way. We’ve got his mother in here and she’d like him brought back quick smart so they can get back home to the city...’

When he turned back to look Beck in the eye, he wore the demeanour of a man in control, getting on with things, but he still hadn’t confessed the missing boy was one of his own.

‘Stay here for a bit,’ Daniel said, yanking his jacket off its hook behind the door. ‘I’m gonna make sure he’s not waiting for the midday train over at the station. Phone’s switched over to Wishaw; I’ll check for messages when I get back.’

Daniel took his time getting takeaway burgers and chips for lunch before he went back. They ate in near silence until he suggested that it might be an idea to let Alan lie down in the sick room.