‘Angela … yes! Nicholas … I told him all about her, how she died, when she died how it made me feel sad …’ She faded out again. Joel was just about to butt in, to let his frustration take over, when she suddenly straightened and her fragility gave way to something like anger. ‘He used every word against me. Just like he always does,’ she said. ‘Hannah told me that’s what controlling people do – they take your words and they use them for themselves. He told me that Danny Evans was driving that car, that Danny Evans had run my friend down. But I looked him up. For once in my life I didn’t just take him at his word, I didn’t just believe what he told me. Danny Evans played football. He was playing football the night Angela was run down. The internet had a newspaper article. It couldn’t have been him. I’m not allowed on the internet but I have a mobile phone that Nicholas doesn’t know about.’ She tutted again. ‘I need to show you something. Upstairs.’

Joel stepped out of the doorway for Marilyn to lead the way. DS Rose was next. The wooden stairs resonated loudly with no carpet to deaden the noise. Marilyn pushed into the first room at the top of the stairs. It was a boxroom, barely big enough for them all to stand in, and made smaller still by numerous boxes stacked against the walls, the same type as Joel had seen downstairs. There was a camp bed too. It was against the wall on the right side. A sleeping bag was laid out on top like it was made up to be used. A coffee cup next to it had an inch of brown liquid at the bottom that had developed a skin. Beside it was a carrier bag, the backs of a pair of shoes visible inside.

‘He’s been staying here, Nicholas has,’ Joel said.