‘Welcome to the big white villa on the hill. Our holiday house, in France,’ he added in the mock-serious tone of a TV presenter. ‘And welcome to Daniel’s video diary. We start today in my bedroom.’

In spite of myself and how low I was feeling, I couldn’t help but smile at his commentary as he chattered on, panning the camera around his room, the suitcase open on the bed, his books stacked neatly next to his little digital clock, his Lego superheroes on the bedside table. I knew, from his previous holiday videos, that he could go on like this for quite some time. I hit fast forward, watching as everything on screen speeded up and the images flashed past: the hallway, our bedroom, Lucy’s room and the others along the corridor, the stairs down into the games room, more stairs and what looked like a wine cellar, then up again, into the lounge and out onto the balcony, the images of Rowan and me on the first day here with the inevitable extreme close-up. The speeded-up image moved back into the lounge, jerking crazily up the stairs to the first floor, doors pushed open into more bedrooms, out to another balcony at the end of the hall, a shot of the grounds and the hills in the distance, another zooming close-up down by the double garage, and there was someone half-hidden behind a low white wall, then the shot swinging away and over to the infinity pool –

Wait. I jabbed the pause button, a strange tingling sensation at the back of my neck, then rewound the tape a minute or so and hit play.

Daniel’s commentary started up again as the camera panned over distant hills, shimmering in the heat haze.

‘And here we have some more boring countryside,’ his high little voice announced, ‘just loads of trees and hills and more boring trees really. Not very interesting. Not even a McDonald’s or a KFC anywhere.’

The camera zoomed out again, pulling right back to the grounds, the outhouse, a sweep across the roof of the double garage at the top of the driveway.

There. On the other side of a low wall.

The image caught Sean’s top half, from the chest upwards. He had sunglasses on and was talking to someone, smiling, holding his hands out to them. Whoever he was talking to was hidden behind the garage wall.

‘It’s Daddy,’ Daniel’s voiceover said on the tape. ‘Hello, Daddy!’

Sean seemed not to hear his son’s voice. He carried on talking earnestly to the person behind the garage, who was still hidden.

Come out, take a step forward so I can see you.

Come out.

‘Daddy’s gone deaf,’ Daniel grumbled to himself on the tape. ‘Typical.’

Just as the camera swung away again, Sean moved to embrace the mystery person and I saw a flash of something that made my breath catch in my throat.