Diane goes on, “I’ve got the notes. Handwritten. I just …”

“Where are you?”

“It might not be the same people. I mean, this was just a lost child, not anything that needed our attention. The woman I saw was genuine. It was a genuine mistake. I was sure.”

“It is the same woman. The local police officers who were attending have already given a name and the description matches the person they’re looking for. They said they left it to you to deal with the details.”

“I did deal with it as far as I thought was appropriate. I was sure it didn’t require intervention. At the time. She seemed really normal. I didn’t think … it can’t be her. They must have made a mistake. Maybe there were two missing child incidents?”

“Oh, and two Diane Rathbones, I suppose? They’ve got your name in their report. They want to see yours. To cross-reference the details.”

“What’s it got to do with the man they found in Sheffield? I don’t see how it can be connected.”

Diane’s head feels like it is being compressed in a vise. The cold she’s had coming for days has laid itself down on her like a wet blanket over her face. She blows her nose, and a palmful of green snot collects in the tissue, some of it escaping and running down the heel of her hand. She wipes it up best she can. She feels like crying, but she knows she won’t; it’s just that she always feels like crying when she’s talking to Belinda.

Belinda says, “I don’t need to tell you how badly you have screwed this up, Diane. You need to go into the office now and write up what you can, and explain to the police why your report is dated two days late.”

The phone goes dead.

When she arrives at the office, Belinda is waiting, arms folded, bum perched on Diane’s desk. She is wearing a holly-green velvet dress with a silver tinsel trim around the bottom, but her face is far from festive.

“That DS is coming over to see you. She’ll be here in about an hour.”

Diane nods. “I’ll be ready.”

“What were you thinking, Diane?”

“I was trying to see the good in people, alright? I’m always judging people, playing God with their lives. I just wanted to let everyone forget about it and get on with their day. How was I supposed to know she’d … done whatever it is she’s supposed to have done? I can’t know everything, can I?”

Belinda narrows her eyes.

“How long have you been in this job?”

“Sixteen years. Give or take. Why?”

“What made you think you didn’t need to follow procedure in this case?”