I turned it over and saw it was handwritten just to ‘Anastasia’. There was one of those small stickers on the back and it said: ‘Irene Copeland’, then an address in Cambridge.

My heart jolted and I walked into the kitchen, holding the envelope like it was radioactive.

I sat down at the table and stared at it for about three seconds, during which I debated whether it was right to open someone else’s post, then concluded that this was only going to upset my wife and I needed to intercept it.

I tore the manila envelope open with trembling hands and one sheet of writing paper and a piece of A4 paper fell out. I opened the A4 sheet first and saw that it appeared to be a clumsy copy of some photographs, the originals of which had clearly been Sellotaped to paper.

My mouth went dry as I looked down at Anya, about ten years younger or more, with shorter hair in its natural curls, rather than straightened as it was now. The person with her was a man who was, I had to admit, strikingly good looking. He had similarly pale skin from what I could see and his hair was sort of curly and floppy on the top. He looked like the heartthrob from an indie band of the nineties.

With a grimace, I put the sheet down on the table and opened the letter.

The handwriting was very neat and small, and it looked as though the words had been written very carefully. I read them, and my stomach began to churn.

Dear Anastasia,

I am sorry to bother you but you would not talk to me when I came to your house and I feel that I need to try again to talk to you.

You see my son Michael had your name in his possession and also these photographs of my son Liam his brother who I haven’t seen since he left home in 2003. It seems very clear to me that you knew Liam and I think this is what lead Michael to track you down.

I have no idea why he would want to hurt himself in the way he did and the fact is that I now have neither of my boys at my side and if you could give me any context at all for what has happened, it would help me greatly in the greaving process.

Michael had a friend called Rowan who is talking about going to the police about it all and insisting they investigate it all a bit more carefully. For now I think that getting together and having a conversation would be the best thing.

I can come to you, or you can come to me. If you would prefer to meet in London or somewhere else I’m sure that will be fine too.