‘Of course you can, Dan, provided you don’t mind the settee?’

‘I’m quite used to it now, Kate.’

‘I’m sure you are.’

The silence between them was heavy. Kate made herself relax. She put up with Dan’s invasions for Lizzy’s sake, knowing that the girl enjoyed them. Dan was a wastrel, a lazy good for nothing - and his daughter adored every bone in his body.

Kate had never attempted to put her daughter wise about her father. Instead she allowed him to come into their lives when it suited him and then gritted her teeth and smiled until he breezed out again. Kate could even sympathise with Lizzy; once upon a time he had had the same effect on her. She was living for the day when Lizzy found out her father’s shortcomings herself. Then she would pick up the pieces and breathe a sigh of relief.

Lizzy came back in the room with a mug of steaming tea. Dan had ensconced himself on the sofa and Kate watched from the easy chair as Lizzy gave him the mug, careful not to let one drop fall on to her father’s natty outfit. She would bet her last pound that every bit of money he had was already spent. His presents would be large and as expensive as possible. Now he wanted somewhere to recuperate and relax that did not cost anything. Kate knew he was mugging her off and it annoyed her.

‘So how’s Anthea?’

‘Oh, she’s fine, fine. Got her boys home for Christmas, so I thought I’d come and see my poppet.’ He ruffled Lizzy’s hair as he spoke and she smiled at him.

Kate felt an urge to be sick but fought it down bravely. ‘When’s she expecting you back?’ It came out sweetly but Dan and Evelyn, who had walked into the room, both knew it was a loaded question. He was saved from answering by Lizzy.

‘Oh, Mum! He’s only just got here and you want to know when he’s going?’

The phone rang and Kate went out to the hall to answer it, glad of the respite.

‘Hello, DI Burrows speaking.’

‘Kate? Ratchette here. Bit of bother, I’m afraid. Could you sort it out for me, please?’

‘What’s up, sir?’

‘It seems that one of the town’s leading citizens has mislaid his daughter.’

‘Who?’

‘Patrick Kelly.’ Ratchette’s voice was flat. ‘I’ve had the Chief Constable on to me. It seems the girl went missing at eight this evening. The boyfriend was supposed to pick her up from Portaby Road and when he got there she was nowhere to be seen. She’s not a girl to go off without telling anyone apparently, so the Chief Constable himself wants the matter thoroughly investigated.’

Kate could hear the annoyance in Ratchette’s voice.

‘I’ll go and see him, don’t worry. It’s probably nothing. How old is the girl, by the way?’

‘Twenty-two. I think she had a row with the boyfriend and is holed up at a friend’s but the boy’s too frightened to tell the father.’