‘All I know is that they were always falling out, Inspector. I told you yesterday how they used to wind each other up. And I know they’ve called it a day on their relationship at least twice before, only to get back together soon after.’

James assured her again that he and his colleagues were working flat out to find her son.

‘In the meantime, try not to think the worst,’ he said. ‘In all probability he’s somewhere safe and might even be unaware of what has happened.’

He then gestured for Abbott to start the car and told Miss Weldon that he had to go.

‘But I promise to let you know as soon as I hear anything,’ he added. ‘And if your son does contact you then for everyone’s sake please don’t keep it to yourself.’

Heather Redgrave lived in a small development of terraced houses close to Kendal College.

The woman who answered the door had clearly been expecting the police to call and introduced herself as Heather’s mother, Judith Redgrave. She was about fifty and of medium height, with short brown hair.

She invited James and Abbott in after telling them that her daughter was in the shower.

‘She was sweating when she got back from her run,’ the woman said. ‘She won’t be long, though. You can wait in the lounge. Would you like something to drink?’

They both shook their heads, and James said, ‘That’s very kind of you but we both got well caffeinated before we left the office.’

There were two small sofas in the lounge and when they were seated facing each other, James asked if anyone else lived in the house with her and her daughter.

‘Only my husband,’ she replied. ‘He’s on a post-Christmas visit to his parents in Wigan. He’ll be back tomorrow.’

‘You mentioned to me on the phone that Heather has taken the day off,’ Abbott said. ‘As a matter of interest where does she work?’

‘In a small boutique hotel not far from here,’ Mrs Redgrave said. ‘Usually on reception or in the back office. But she really wasn’t up to it today.’

‘And how long had she and Charlotte Bateman been friends?’

‘Oh, since they were at school together. You see, we used to live in Kirkby Abbey before we moved here five years ago. They stayed in touch and they’ve seen more of each other since Charlotte moved in with her boyfriend.’

‘Do you know him – Neil Savage?’ Abbott asked.

She shook her head. ‘And from what I’ve heard about him I don’t think I ever want to. By all accounts he’s a nasty piece of work.’

Abbott was about to ask another question when the door opened and a young woman wearing jeans and a T-shirt walked in.

‘This is my daughter, Heather,’ Mrs Redgrave said. ‘Heather, these are detectives Abbott and Walker.’