‘Are you the mother of the girl that went missing?’ I feel compelled to be at least partially honest with her about what brought me here, as she deserves that. I am confident she won’t remember me. She looks lost; she barely pays attention to my face at all.

‘I am,’ she says, staring past me, her eyes connecting with nothing.

‘I just wanted to say sorry and I hope you find her soon,’ I say as sincerely as I can, even though I don’t believe they will find her – gone is gone.

‘Thank you,’ she says, placing her hand on mine for a moment and squeezing, making me feel guilty for even coming here. I see her eyes brim over and she dashes out to the back of the shop. Her colleague who was restocking a shelf nearby comes to finish serving me.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset her.’

‘She shouldn’t be back at work really, been doing that all morning,’ the other lady says sympathetically. Her nametag says Charlotte.

‘Do they have any idea where her daughter might be?’

‘No. Someone I know who works at the Fort Hotel said they saw her getting into an old brown car but they couldn’t confirm it, could have been another kid or another day. It’s like she just up and vanished. Very strange business. That kind of thing just doesn’t happen around here. There are tons of rumours flying around about what happened.’

‘I heard it happened once before, about sixteen years ago.’ I try to keep eye contact, not shift my eyes or look suspicious in any way, as if we are talking about a movie we saw, not something that matters, not something I was part of.

‘What are the chances it’s the same person? That they would wait sixteen years to do it again? That will be twenty-four pounds and eighty seven pence,’ Liz’s colleague Charlotte said.

I pay with contactless. ‘I guess you’re right, sixteen years is a long time to wait.’

‘Was probably one of those fairground folk. I don’t trust them,’ Charlotte said.

‘Is the fair still in town?’

‘No, thank goodness. Packed up as soon as there was any sign of trouble. Shady bunch. Can I get you anything else?’

‘No. Thank you.’

After I leave the newsagent’s I decide to cut through to the park that leads towards town. There are lots of people out walking their dogs. No mutts in sight, all groomed and healthy-looking designer breeds like labradoodles and cockapoos. I feel torn between my contempt for the wealthy people in this town and my ingrained feeling of superiority over the people on the other side of that coin. I never did fit in here.