I wake up confused, slightly panicked at my unfamiliar surroundings before I remember where I am. I am still on my side of the bed, still locked in my old routine. I look at the clock and see that it’s after lunch. Without the children or Chris to tend to I feel aimless. I go to the window and look out towards the seafront and see the people walking from the centre up towards Jacob’s Ladder. It’s weird being this side of the looking glass. I glance at my phone and see Chris hasn’t called. He’s still annoyed at me, but what can I do? I have spent more than a decade just being available, changing my plans to accommodate his deadlines, having nothing better to do. Well, for once I have something better to do.

After my shower I put on a grey summer dress that touches the floor when I walk. I feel very monochrome with my black hair and white sandals. I add my trademark red lipstick – I feel uncomfortable without it and it pulls the outfit together – and I take a small bottle of vodka from the minibar and drink it. I need some courage before I venture outside.

I completely missed breakfast and so my first task is to find some food. I decide to walk via The Triangle, where the main bus terminal for the town is located. That was the last place the missing girl was seen. There won’t be anything there but it’s as good a place as any to start. The closer I get to my destination the more my stomach turns. I walk up the road past the Bedford Hotel and The Triangle comes into view. Nothing has changed about it. It’s strange how you can spend so long away from a place but still know it so well. I sit on the wall opposite the actual terminal and watch the buses come and go, the drivers a mix of men and women. The drivers were all very familiar with us kids, going up to town and back hundreds of times a week. There was one old driver who would offer the girls free bus rides if they would touch his crotch. As far as I know, no one ever did, but that didn’t stop him from asking. We all referred to him as Pervy Pete and that was all there was to it. No big deal. The thought of my Daisy dealing with guys like that really makes my skin crawl but she is the same age as I was back then; it would be naive of me to think she lives in a bubble of innocence.