I hoped my daughter might find that love too. But I am really not sure she has. And in anyone else, I would just say, ‘Wait and see. Let her find it in her own time.’ But this is Anastasia. My dear, darling, complicated Anastasia.

When she told us the terrible story about that Alice woman, both Patrick and I cried.

We were devastated that our daughter had been responsible for something so horrific and, yes, I’ll admit this, that she had to see it. We were frightened that it would scar her for the rest of her life.

We wanted to blame him, that Liam boy.

I never really asked for details about how Patrick persuaded him to stay away.

But he sounded like the sort of person who would probably do anything for the right price. I’m not too concerned about that, I’m sorry. My daughter is my priority.

Anya remained dry-eyed while she told us about what happened at the station. It was when Patrick left the room that she grabbed both my hands and whispered something I have never forgotten, which chilled me and saddened me to my core.

Her expression was momentarily wild and she hissed, ‘There’s something missing inside me, Mum. I know I’m meant to feel awful but I just want to forget about it all. Is that normal?’

What on earth could I say to that? Patrick came into the room and she drew back and gave me a warning look about repeating what she had said. I didn’t know what to do or say and left it at that. But the next chance I had, I suggested she see a therapist again. She followed my advice, but I am not sure she ever really allowed herself to tell the truth in those sessions.

We couldn’t have been happier when she met Elliott. Of course, we were surprised, at first. Their backgrounds were so different and, in the beginning, we thought there may be elements of that other, disastrous, relationship at play. But we quickly fell in love with Elliott too. He has an essential sweetness to him that she needs in a partner. He balances her out. I believed, I really did, that maybe she had grown out of the more problematic aspects of her character.

Then that Michael man came back into her life.

She has no remorse for what happened to him, not really.

For my daughter, it is a little like watching her actions through a screen. She knows they are directly connected to her, yet she is able to tidy them away.

She didn’t spend her childhood pulling the wings off insects, if that’s what you are thinking. She doesn’t, as far as I am concerned, nurse violent urges or have an inability to care about people. My daughter loves me and her father. She loves Elliott.