He supposed a lot of children went through it. Parents died. Not all the time, but it happened. There were counsellors trained in dealing with bereavement, methods to help children understand and process their grief, then move on and live normal lives.

Not easy, but possible.

But what if your mum traded herself to save you after you were kidnapped? There were no methods for dealing with that, no well-trodden paths that led to understanding and acceptance. There would be guilt and pain and bewilderment and who knew what else.

And then there was him. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her getting into the front seat of her car and driving away. Heard the shout as she saw her children.

And every time he felt a stab of anguish that he had not stopped it, that he had agreed to let her trade herself for the children, that he had not called the police or raised a private army or done something.

But they couldn’t have risked telling the police and there was no way Annabelle was going to leave the kids with whoever had taken them. And they had tried everything to track him.

Their children had been in the hands of a kidnapper. He could still remember vividly how that had felt. He had been desperate and panic-stricken, like the world was going to end at any moment and there was no price too high to pay to bring them back.

He would gladly have sacrificed himself, but that was not what was being asked.

The price was Annabelle and she was always going to pay it.

But how would they explain that to the children?

He glanced at his watch. DI Wynne was due in five minutes to talk to the kids.

Molly was still lying on his chest, her eyes closed. Norman and Keith were playing Minecraft, building their virtual world.

It was a moment of peace and he forced himself to enjoy it.

He did not think there would be many more.

Annabelle

Annabelle pictured herself springing on the kidnapper as soon as the door opened, wrestling him to the floor, then sprinting away.

That was hardly going to happen. She was in reasonable shape but she had never been in a fight in her life. Moreover, she had one working arm and the kidnapper was likely to be wary. Her chances of overpowering another adult with one arm and without a weapon or the element of surprise were limited.

She tensed and straightened.

She called the kidnapper to mind. Taller than the average woman, yes – maybe five ten, five eleven – but that slender, thin-hipped build …

The handle turned, and the door began to open.

Matt

The doorbell rang just before midday. Matt got to his feet. Tessa was coming to look after the kids. Matt wanted to be there when DI Wynne talked to them, so Tess was going to entertain the two who were not being interviewed.