‘You’re separated now, is that right?’ asks the blonde, undeterred. No surprise really, he doesn’t cut the powerful figure he once did. As I’ve always known, life is nothing but a confidence trick. Lily’s head swivels towards her, her eyes like slits.

‘I stand by my husband. Our family stands united.’ She inclines her head, and now their awful son and his wife are fighting through the scrum to complete the line-up, rictus grins plastered on their faces. No sign of Sophie, I note with satisfaction. Rachel would be so happy at the cast-iron evidence that her sister took her side. Took our side. Still, it’s a little unnerving how they emerged from the crowd: I take a step backwards, keep my gaze trained on the ground. I’m taking a huge risk today, but I know in my heart that it’s worth it.

‘But isn’t it true that your husband’s been declared bankrupt because you refused to sell the family home?’ shouts the blonde terrier, but now they’re refusing to reply to her.

‘And the judge just threw your case against Amber Greville out,’ adds another journalist, thrusting a mic towards them, his cameraman at his shoulder. ‘He said any claim you’d be entitled to is against your daughter.’

Lily rounds on him, furious.

‘I would never betray my daughter in that way. And those who have betrayed her will pay the price.’ She looks into the camera, almost beseeching. She’s speaking directly to the child I know she’s lost forever, even if I don’t know where she’s gone. ‘I won’t stop fighting.’

Now they’re elbowing their way through the crowd – it’s safest to let myself be sucked into it, obscured by the crush of bodies. The whole family cram themselves into a taxi, but I know, ultimately, she’ll be home alone.

The light will click on in the master bedroom – the window is top right from my vantage place across the street – shortly after 9pm. It’s not like the old days when the lights in the living room would often blaze till 11pm – the two of them watching their favourite crime shows in a bad parody of marital bliss, or, alternatively, Lily numbing herself with Sauvignon Blanc solo, waiting for him to deign to make a reappearance. It was uncanny to finally go inside, that first day I met Rachel – like walking into a book you’ve read a hundred times, the pages thumbed, the spine broken.

I won’t put the book down, won’t stop fighting. My girls – both of them – can trust in that. I know in time they’ll be ready for me to tell them.

I know – have always known – how exquisite it can be to wait.

Acknowledgements