He started to cry, a plaintive noise that grew quickly into a wail. The vicar scooped up more water, and tipped it over his forehead. The crying got louder. Matt stepped forward, but Guy – Norman’s godfather – put his hand on his forearm.

‘It’s OK,’ Guy muttered. ‘Nearly done.’

‘… and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.’ She smiled. ‘There,’ she said. ‘He’s awake. I’ll pass him back to you.’

Matt took his son, and held him close to his chest. He kissed his head.

‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘It’s OK.’

Norman’s cries stopped. Annabelle put her arm around him and kissed him on the cheek.

‘You’re the best dad ever,’ she said. ‘And one day Norman’s going to get you a mug with it on to prove it.’

Sunday, 8 March 2020, 5.35 p.m.

Matt

He heard Annabelle shouting. He couldn’t make out the words but there was no doubt it was her voice.

She was naked, and handcuffed. He stared at her naked back; he knew that body so well. He watched as she put her gown back on and the hooded figure handcuffed her. He started to run towards the car, but he stopped himself.

The kidnapper had made it very clear what would happen if he didn’t stay put, and, as far as he could see there was no sign of the kids.

But Jesus Christ, it was hard to ignore her.

And what if it was all a lie? What if the kids weren’t there? What if this was all a ploy to get Annabelle and the kids?

That fear had been at the back of his mind all along, and it suddenly lurched front and centre, bringing with it a racing heart and a sickening dread.

He groaned and sank to his knees. The ground was soft and cold. How had they been so stupid? It was obvious now that this had been the plan all along: take the kids, and use the promise of returning them to get hold of Annabelle as well.

There was still no sign of the kids. Annabelle shouted again, and the kidnapper jumped forward. He put his hands around her throat, and the shouting stopped.

That was enough. He was going to go and get his family back. He stood up and looked around for a weapon. A stick, a rock. Anything. Nothing, if necessary. He had nothing to lose.

And then the kidnapper opened the rear door of the blue Golf and shoved Annabelle into the car. Seconds later, the car was driving away.

Matt sprinted after them. It was pointless; the car was gone, but he kept running anyway. When he reached the point where the car had been, he stood and looked wildly around.

To the right he saw his Land Rover. He ran towards it; the keys were on the back bumper. He snatched them up and unlocked the door, then yanked it open.