Nick shoved the closed laptop across the table. It struck the glass of Coke and sent it spinning away. The glass smashed on the floor as Middleton jumped to his feet, splattered with Coke.

‘I’ll pay it to get my granddaughter back. You win, Nick.’ He started to leave, but paused to add something. ‘But I’m going to pay double that to ruin you afterwards. Just watch.’

In the playroom again, Nick once more traced his fingers over Josie’s Busy Day drawing. Nick’s stick form, standing apart from the others. Leaving the house, leaving the family. Had Josie known about the trouble between her parents? Nick and Anna had discussed a possible split many times, over many hours, but all Josie knew was that Daddy might have to go away for a bit. Or so Nick had thought.

He was going nowhere. He had felt the pain of losing Josie, of seeing a kidnapper pass Josie, drugged into sleep, through her bedroom window and into the arms of another man, and the image, ever-replaying behind his eyes, was heart-wrenching, and he swore now he wouldn’t feel that emotion again in any form. He wasn’t moving out of the house. Hell, he was going to sleep in Josie’s room every night when they had her back. He would soak Josie up like a camel taking on water, just to fill himself with emotion and memory because he wasn’t sure he’d otherwise cope the next time Josie was away from him, even if it was for school or a day trip or when she saw her grandfather. And he would never again do anything to disrupt the family. If Josie repeated her wish that Daddy and Grandpo ‘made bestier friends’, well, Nick might even attempt that.

But the thought of Josie being helpless, begging for Daddy, heightened a sense of impotence borne of his inability to stop those masked kidnappers from taking his girl. He’d put up a fight, but they’d taken Josie with ease, hadn’t they? Because anyone could fight, if pushed, but not everyone had a strong fight in them. That night had proved that Nick wasn’t strong enough to look after his girl. And Nick’s stick man was thinner than the others, he noted, as if Josie believed her father was weak, insignificant.

When Anna walked in with two cups of tea that Jane had made, she stopped dead. Nick realised his face was wet and quickly rubbed the tears away. ‘I couldn’t save her.’

‘You’re not invincible. We’ll get her back.’ Said with conviction. She seemed to be the strong one. She was taking this better than he was. Overcome with grief, and a sense of the end, he said, ‘What if we don’t?’

Her face was stony, sincere, when she said, ‘We will. I promise.’