The man hesitated, before giving Mark a broad smile, as if he’d suddenly had a personality transplant. His shirt was open at the neck, dark trousers over polished shoes. He dressed as immaculately as his front visage. ‘Of course. Come in, please. Excuse the mess. You’ve caught me in the middle of a busy time.’

Mark was shown through to a pristine-looking living room, which left him searching for what could be considered a ‘mess’. There wasn’t a thing out of place. A smell of lavender air freshener was all that seemed to give it life.

‘Please, sit,’ Kevin said, gesturing to a beige-backed armchair. ‘What can I help you with?’

Mark sat on the chair slowly, as Kevin Blackhurst took a seat opposite him on a matching sofa. ‘Are you aware of the missing person case regarding Emily Burns?’

Kevin paused again, his smile slipping a little. ‘I can’t say I am, I’m afraid.’

Mark nodded, trying to place the accent. Not Liverpudlian, that was certain, but it wasn’t northern either. Anything south of Nottingham and he started to struggle to place them, he supposed. ‘She’s a nineteen-year-old who hasn’t been seen for almost five days now. The name doesn’t ring a bell?’

‘Can’t say it does.’

Mark consulted his notes again, leaving a gap for him to elaborate, but Kevin didn’t take the bait. ‘You are the owner of something called “The Huddle”, right?’

‘Well, owner is probably pushing things a little,’ Kevin replied, smoothing down an unseen crease on his trousers. ‘I was somewhat involved in the creation of the website, but I left the day-to-day running of it to others. It’s been disbanded now.’

‘The website is still live…’

‘I don’t think they’re taking on any new cases, though.’

Mark nodded again, wondering why he felt as if Kevin was choosing his words a little too carefully. ‘What was it set up for, if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘Of course not. It was intended to be a sort of hub for people experiencing bullying. In schools, colleges, even workplaces; anywhere where bullying was occurring. The Huddle was set up to help those in need.’

‘How did it work?’

‘It was an online support forum. You could get in touch and talk to others who had been in the same situation you had. It was supposed to help and give advice, that type of thing. That then branched out into a couple of sessions held in real life. That wasn’t as successful though.’

‘No?’

Kevin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘From what I heard, there were some issues with those who had been tasked with running the sessions and those who attended.’

‘And what was your involvement in all of this? Were you just the money behind it, or something like that?’

‘Something like that.’