That all-important silent gap was provided by the caller. She had expected those surrounding her to panic at her instant decapitation of the rules, but they just watched. Silent, unmoving, just another day at the office. Suddenly she couldn’t hear the laptop’s fan whirring, or the little carriage clock on the fireplace ticking; even the rain had ceased lashing the world, as if Mother Nature herself had become entranced by this sliver of the universe. Two, three, four seconds ticked by. And then:

‘I believe I told you not to involve the police.’

A deep male voice, and suddenly the horror was undeniably real, no longer a simple misunderstanding but a true waking nightmare. Not Nick, so another. Someone who didn’t care about Josie. Her throat closed up.

Miller shook her head, which Anna understood: don’t admit it. They didn’t look shocked that the caller wasn’t Nick, after all their suspicions.

‘I didn’t,’ she said. Her fear spiked. A lie, and it could kill Josie and Nick.

‘Involving the police was betrayal. I should take a finger off your girl for that.’

She was about to scream an apology when Miller stepped forward, silent as a ghost, and grabbed her shoulder. Their eyes met and right there Anna realised the other woman also knew the caller wasn’t Nick. She mouthed, Don’t admit.

‘I didn’t,’ Anna repeated, and it felt like pulling the trigger of a gun aimed at Josie’s head.

‘If any police know the next time I call, you’re no longer a parent. I’ll call soon to let you know how your man’s dues can be paid.’

She was supposed to talk about Josie: what she liked to play with, cartoons she enjoyed – and her milk allergy, she was supposed to mention that. But the fear wobbled logic. ‘Please, let me talk to her. I need to know—’

Click.

Three

Like a zombie, she staggered for the door. People in her way got elbowed aside, even her father as he attempted a rare moment of concern during this whole ordeal. But Jane, aware of her presence, fumbled for an arm, locked on to it, and guided Anna towards the bedroom. Various voices tried to ask questions – Was that Nick? Did you recognise the voice? – and it was sweet music to hear Miller order her to be given a few minutes alone.

‘Your girl,’ Jane said, a moment before Anna’s legs gave way and she collapsed, a dead weight, on to the bed. Jane was almost dragged over with her, such was her sister’s grip on Anna’s flesh. ‘He said your girl. That wasn’t Nick.’

Jane had a slight smile, as if she thought this was good news. But Anna just stared at her and shook her head.