It was Kate who had left the child in Grove’s vile storeroom. High up on a decaying, rotting floor with no safety rail, just a long drop on to the stone flags below. Alone with thousands of pounds’ worth of filth, involving children of Sophie’s own age. Had left her in a state of terror, sufficient to bind her to the spot as securely as if she had been chained.

She must have known that one day Sophie would be well enough to speak of what had happened. And as she left the house that morning, she must have seen that letter, lying as it was on top of the rest. Or had Kate simply erased the memory of what she’d done, just like Sophie?

And Grove. The man was scum, yes, but in this case, he was innocent. Kate had been perfectly happy for him to take the blame for the child’s abduction.

She wasn’t far away now, standing on an old wooden pier that overlooked the deep drain, and the fast running waters that gushed out into the Wash. She half turned to him. Caught in a shaft of sunlight, her thin face seemed to be made of purest alabaster.

He blundered into a glutinous patch of boggy ground. Oh, Lord, what was he going to say to her? What could he possibly say?

He thought he heard her voice, soft and whispery. Love, she was saying, “love,” and “Bear.”

He extricated his foot from the mire and looked up to where she had been standing. The wooden pier was empty.

He ran along the sea bank, calling her name.

At first, he saw nothing but the swirling greenish brown waters, then a flash of scarlet broke the surface. A white hand reached out to him.

He slid down the bank, shouting her name. Seeing a slimy mooring post, he grabbed it with one hand and jumped into the fast-flowing drain. The arm, red sleeve clinging to it, emerged through a circle of frothy bubbles. He snatched at it, almost losing his hold on the wooden post. The soaking material fought to free itself from his grasp, but he held firm.

He had her. He tugged at the sleeve and her white face burst through the water, her long hair forming a wide dark corona around her head. Frightened, imploring eyes stared up at him.

The eyes of a child.

Will froze. Sophie!

The jacket was slipping from his grasp, while he saw the terrified child being led up the dark stairs to that awful room. He saw her shaking as night fell and the shadows gathered.

He knew what those eyes were asking of him. He relaxed his aching fingers and opened his hand. Gently, he pushed the beautiful face under the water. There was no fight. She simply disappeared.