‘If they miss each other, then she should be here with her son,’ Bish said.

Sadia and Katherine exchanged a knowing look. ‘It’s about her size,’ Sadia said, with a confirming nod. ‘She’s a big woman.’

They returned to Manoshi’s room and Iqbal went to get some fresh air, which meant a cigarette. Saffron volunteered to go with him.

‘Can I speak to the girls together?’ Bish asked Katherine and Sadia. Moments later, Katherine guided Lola into Manoshi’s room, an arm hovering close to her daughter, who was trying to get accustomed to reduced vision. Lola had been walking unassisted for a day now and seemed pleased with herself. They spent the next half-hour looking through their fellow campers’ photographs on Instagram and Facebook. The girls hadn’t seen most of them before. Now and then the images elicited a giggle, even from Manoshi. When Bish saw they were looking at a photo of the Ramsgate twins asleep in their seats he asked them about it.

The two girls glanced at each other. ‘Anyone who fell asleep on the bus had a photo taken of them,’ Lola said. ‘The older kids used to get really angry about it.’

‘It was funny.’ Manoshi made a face, mouth gaping open, head tilted to one side, and there was more giggling.

‘So everyone tried not to fall asleep,’ Lola said. ‘Because the photo always ended up on Snapchat or Instagram.’

Bish eyed them both with mock suspicion. ‘Bee as well?’

They looked at each other again. Lola made a snorting sound, nodding.

‘We held out the longest,’ Manoshi said.

‘But we fell asleep on the bus the day before . . .’

‘Before the bomb went off,’ Manoshi finished for her.

They both seemed relieved that one of them had said it. As if no one had yet dared used the word.

‘Everyone took photos of us,’ Lola said.

‘It was big payback,’ Manoshi confirmed.

‘If anyone sends you one of these photos, can you forward them straight to me?’ Bish said. ‘Your mums have my email address.’

There were quite a few photos of kids in another bus. In a car park, it seemed. Same bus each time, but not the Boulogne car park. Bish recognised Marianne Attal in all of them.

‘We shared the same campsite three times,’ Lola said.

Manoshi pointed to Lola. ‘She had a crush on a boy from the French bus who did magic tricks.’

Lola covered her face, embarrassed. Laughing.

‘You didn’t tell me about a boy, Lola,’ Katherine said. The mothers were enjoying their daughters’ frivolity.

Bish came across a photo of Bee sitting on her own, staring out the window of the bus. She cut a lonely figure.

After he had said his goodbyes to the girls, Katherine and Sadia stopped him outside the room.

‘Could you write something, Bish?’ Sadia asked. ‘For our blog.’

‘We’re asking all the parents,’ Katherine said. ‘Perhaps a piece from the point of view of a father who is also investigating.’