Sophie began to cry, all of Rachel’s confidences starting to tumble out of her, like coppers shaken free from a child’s piggy bank. Soon I knew all about Arthur, all about the weird hands-on healing they’d subjected my daughter to, all about the accusations Amber had levelled about my lifetimes of abuse.

It was chilling, but I forced myself to hear every word. It was my duty. There was only one abuser in this scenario – one person who was endangering my daughter – and I was going to make sure she got exactly what she deserved.

‘Say that to me again,’ said Detective Maron. We’d been in that interview room for almost two hours by then. ‘She’s told her that you tortured her in other lifetimes. I don’t mean this as a joke, but – like Doctor Who? Like you’re a time lord?’

Nick snorted.

‘It’s fucking absurd, isn’t it?’ he said.

‘And she’s got other clients?’ added Maron. ‘This lady needs stopping. I want to make sure I’ve got everything in here. Tell me the suicide part in a bit more detail please.’

Nick slumped forward, head in his hands.

‘Tell him, Lily, tell him what she said.’

‘She just…’ I hesitated. ‘I was concerned when she came back from the retreat that she was so distressed she might be suicidal.’

‘No,’ said Nick, banging his fist on the Formica table. ‘You’re soft-soaping it. She threatened it.’

‘Well…’

‘She said if we stopped paying for Amber, she’d be a suicide risk. That’s what she said, Lily! That evil bitch clearly told her to use that line on us – blatant extortion! That grunge girl she was with backed it up, didn’t she?’

That awful, insolent friend of hers. I felt a new surge of rage thinking of the way she’d spoken to me, like she was the one who was Rachel’s blood.

I certainly tried to tone down Nick’s interpretation, but neither man chose to hear me. Soon Maron’s versions of our statements were complete, ready for us to sign. He passed us a tired-looking biro, and each of us scribbled our names. All the triumph had drained out of me as I passed over the pen. I was crashing now.

We gathered up our things, Nick holding up my cashmere coat for me to thread my arms into. I saw Maron clock how gentlemanly a gesture it was, how lucky I must be.

‘Thank you both for coming in,’ he said. ‘I promise you we’ll do everything we can to get the CPS to take this seriously. Even getting the letter asking her to come in for an interview is going to make her think twice about how she’s operating.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ I said.