‘Thank you,’ said Nick, leaning in to give him a firm handshake. ‘We appreciate it, we really do. I’ve got to get back to work now, but we’ll keep in touch.’

Back to work. That was another situation that needed my attention.

‘It might be a week or so before you hear from us,’ said Maron, ‘but I’m personally going to drive this investigation, get some answers. These people should be properly regulated.’

‘We’re so grateful,’ I told him. ‘And I’ll just keep reminding Rachel how much we love her, even if she doesn’t reply.’

The detective looked thoughtful, almost pensive. It had been clear to me that he was the sensitive type from the moment I first drew him into our plight. This was either the perfect job or the worst possible job for our Detective Maron.

‘If you don’t mind me asking, when did your daughter first start going off the rails? Was there something – a trigger, perhaps?’

Nick and I locked eyes for a second, something passing between us.

‘No trigger, I’m afraid,’ I said, my tone gossamer light. ‘If only life really did work like that, we’d know what to do.’ I smiled into his troubled expression. ‘Besides asking you for help, of course.’

When we finally stepped back out of the police station, the frigid January air was like a slap around the face. Some might say I deserved it.

RACHEL

‘Espresso?’

It took a second to remember where I was. My eyes blinked open, taking in the unfamiliar room. There was a weird combination of tired Ikea bedroom furniture and ornate floral wallpaper, punctuated by a series of grand oil paintings. Right now, I seemed to be being eyeballed by a witchy-looking woman in a bonnet, who definitely disapproved of my nakedness. I pulled the duvet around me like a shroud. It smelt lived in – more man than Persil.

‘Straight espresso’s a bit strong for me,’ I said, looking up at Arthur. ‘Can I have some milk in it?’

‘It’ll put hairs on your chest,’ he said, grinning and putting the tiny cup down on the messy nightstand. There was a stack of battered paperbacks with broken spines – On the Road, Crime and Punishment – a university reading list, frozen in time.

‘Is that your thing?’ I said, trying for playful. ‘A werewolf fetish?’ Jesus – I was failing miserably at hard to get.

‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ said Arthur, smirking down at me, and reaching a questing hand under the duvet.