‘I’m only working a few hours. My shift ends at midnight. You’ve got my mobile number if you need anything.’ Maggie gazed at the darkening streets. She looked older in the faltering light, and every worry line was evident on her face. ‘Ring me if you have any problems and I’ll come straight home.’

Sarah locked the door as soon as Maggie was safely in her car. She glanced at the instructions Maggie had left in the event of a night terror. Turn on the light, give him a drink, don’t shake him awake, tell him it’s OK, speak in soothing tones. A cough arose from the hall. Elliott stood in his bedroom doorway, wearing turtle-patterned pyjamas and Gruffalo slippers that had seen better days. Sarah looked at the oversized woollen gloves and his big worried eyes before giving him a reassuring smile. Tonight, his father’s medal was pinned to the pocket of his pyjamas. Medals like these were valuable. Sarah found it endearing that Maggie let her son wear it around their home.

‘Hello, you. Aren’t you meant to be in bed?’

‘I can’t sleep.’ Elliott approached shyly. ‘Please can I watch TV with you?’

Sarah checked her watch. It was almost nine. ‘Go on then. You can stay up for half an hour … as long as you watch something child friendly.’

He sat on the navy sofa, enveloped in cushions of various shapes and sizes. The living room was small but functional, tastefully decorated in dark colours with splashes of yellow and pink. On the wall were some of Maggie’s scenic paintings, and on the floor, an old deep-pile navy rug. ‘It might be easier if you took off the gloves,’ Sarah smiled, as he fiddled with the remote control. ‘Are you cold?’ The room was comfortably warm, heated by a small electric fire with flickering fake flames.

Elliott shook his head. His brooding expression told her there was more at play.

He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. He looked so sad that it almost broke Sarah’s heart. ‘Elliott … are you OK? You can talk to me. You know that, don’t you?’ She paused to let the words sink in. ‘When I joined the police, I made a vow to keep people safe. Your mummy is my friend, which makes you my friend too.’

He nodded, turning his doe eyes towards her, but the words did not come. It seemed he didn’t trust Sarah as much awake as when he was asleep. She didn’t blame him. Trust took time. Trust had to be earned. ‘Tell you what,’ Sarah said, softly. ‘How about we play a game? Do you like games?’