‘Are you police?’ he accuses, anger streaking across his face as soon as I mention Hannah’s name.

‘No, nothing like that. I just wanted to talk to someone who knew her.’

‘Are you from the paper? Because I don’t know anything about that new girl that went missing.’

‘No, honestly, it’s not like that. I knew Hannah a bit, too.’

‘What was her favourite band?’

‘Green Day,’ I say, remembering the most recent photo from the newspaper, where she was wearing the band’s hoodie.

‘Did you know me? Because me and Hannah were pretty tight back then,’ he said, somewhat satisfied with my answer.

‘I did, a little. She used to talk about you a lot. My name’s Felicity.’ I lie, I’d never had a conversation with Hannah about Jason but I thought this might encourage him to speak to me.

‘Felicity? You were in my year, right? Your hair is still exactly the same. Wow. How are you? Where have you been?’ he says, sizing me up, the faintest look of recognition on his face, but not really; I can see him struggling to place me completely, trying to remember any interactions we may have had. I realise this won’t be as difficult as I thought it would although I do feel bad for lying to him about my friendship with Hannah.

‘Moved up north, to The Lake District, got married, had a couple of kids. I’m great really.’ I smile nervously, depressed that I can boil my entire life down into one short sentence.

‘So why are you here, if you live in The Lake District?’

‘I heard about the girl going missing on the news and I just had to come down. I wondered if it might be connected in some way. I don’t know. I just felt like I had to be here,’ I say in a rare moment of honesty.

‘I know. It’s crazy, isn’t it. This week has been a bit triggering to say the least. Can’t help thinking back to that night, to what I could have done differently.’

‘Did you know her? The girl who just went missing?’

‘No, thank God, or they might try to pin that one on me as well. Her name was a bit familiar but then all names are a bit familiar round here aren’t they?’

I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what, but his comment makes me blurt out a laugh. He smiles and he really is adorable. I should have done this sober; I’m terrified I’ll say the wrong thing.

‘Why didn’t we ever really speak at school?’ I ask.