She put down the teas and sat next to him. He put his head on her shoulder, and she put her hands on his back.

‘We have to prepare ourselves for—’

‘No,’ she cut in. ‘It will all be okay.’

Like a distraught child, he said, ‘How can you know?’ He held up his phone, ready to show her some of his research into crimes against children, but thought better of it and put the device down.

She said, ‘It will. Everything will be okay.’

He knew her boldness was a mask designed to ease his distress. If possible, she would take aboard all his grief and let the mass eat her alive. That was Anna, always thinking of someone else first. She deserved a stronger man. Perhaps, when this was over and Josie was back, he should do the right thing and leave the family home.

Thinking about that made him suddenly see something else in the drawing. Not just a weak dad. Far more than that.

Josie hadn’t drawn a future she predicted, but one she desired.

Seven

9.01 a.m.

He felt his voice cracking up at the first word.

‘Hello, yes. It’s about Josie Carter, year two. She won’t be in today.’

‘Thank you. Josie Carter, year two. I’ll make sure to pass the message on. Is she ill?’

He had to pull the phone away because a tickle in his dry throat instigated a coughing fit. The school receptionist was from Sunderland, just like the owner of the voice on the ransom recording he’d just listened to, and it choked him up. When able, he told the most painful lie of his life: yes, Josie was ill. She was in bed with fever. But after the lady asked if Josie would be back tomorrow, there was no need for a lie:

‘I don’t know. I hope so.’

That should have been it, but the receptionist told him the headmistress, Mrs McKinley, had asked to speak to him. He was put through to an extension. By then he’d already told himself not to scream at the woman if this was about some trivial naughtiness Josie had been up to.

‘Mr Carter? Thank you for waiting. It’s nothing to worry about. I just wanted to speak to you about the event yesterday in the music room. Did Josie’s mother tell you about it?’

She had, he said. Josie had gone to the toilet, then taken a curious detour into the music room, just for a look around. Fearful of getting in trouble, she’d hidden under the piano stool when a class entered. For the entire half hour lesson, she’d remained hidden while just about every teacher combed the school. Her teacher, Miss Hood, actually had the police on the phone when the first kid from the next class into the music room spotted Josie under the piano stool.