‘People like her don’t just disappear,’ Charlie said, the stock pose back, more confident now. ‘Something happens to them. Or because of them. I’m just surprised she wasn’t found sooner.’

‘Well, we don’t know it’s her for certain yet…’

‘Yeah, because there’s loads of fat nineteen-year-old girls from Liverpool missing right now.’

Probably way more than you realise, Mark thought, but kept his mouth shut. He knew Charlie was trying to provoke a reaction from him. It seemed that was the trade when it came to teenagers. Always trying to get attention from you. Yet, it didn’t feel as real coming from this young lad. The lack of sympathy for Emily was jarring, but Mark thought it might all be part of the same act. ‘We’re doing all we can to get you and your family the answers quickly. These things take time though. I’m sorry.’

‘Doesn’t bother me. Won’t make much difference to my life if she’s here or not.’

Mark couldn’t work out why he would be saying this. A plea for attention? Wanting to be noticed? Or was there something else he wasn’t saying? ‘We haven’t really had a chance to talk.’

‘That’s because you’ve been too busy chatting up the sexy half of the twins,’ Charlie said, a wry smile appearing as he studied Mark’s face for a reaction. ‘It’s okay, I’m used to that by now. We all are. We know Stephanie is the star of the show in our family. Everyone can’t wait to speak to her. Didn’t expect you lot to be any different.’

Mark leaned back against the kitchen counter, struggling to keep his eyebrows from raising in surprise. He may not have had much to say the previous day, but it seemed Charlie had a lot of thoughts rolling around in his head. ‘You didn’t get on with Emily then?’

‘Can’t really speak ill of the dead, can I?’

‘We don’t know if it’s her yet…’

‘Yeah, yeah, we all have to wait around to find out,’ Charlie cut in, his voice affecting a mocking tone now. ‘I know how this works. She’ll have to be identified and then there’ll be a funeral and all of that. I just want it all to be over with already.’

Mark narrowed his eyes at the boy, but he couldn’t work out if this was unfocused anger. Grief. Or something more.

‘I guess she’s finally getting the attention she always wanted, anyway,’ Charlie continued, tapping fingers against the wall behind him. His eyes flicked from Mark’s towards the window and the uncle, still pacing outside. ‘A better kind of attention, anyway.’

Mark took note of the implication. ‘How did Emily get on with everyone? Your mum, your uncle?’