‘Claire? What is it? What’s the matter?’

I move the cushion away. ‘Do you think Billy’s alive or dead?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Billy. Do you think he’s dead?’

There is no sharp intake of breath from the phone. No horrified gasp. Just a long, slow sigh.

‘Mark?’

‘I think this is a conversation we should have in person. Face to face.’

‘I want to have it now.’

‘Claire, is your mum there? Could you put her on the phone?’

‘Why?’

‘I’m worried about you.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re not. I’m coming over.’

‘No!’ The word comes out sharply. ‘I need to think. I need to be here. Alone.’

Another pause. Another sigh. ‘I don’t understand. Have I done something? Has Jake? I rang him at work. He said you had words the other day. Why didn’t you tell me? What did he say? Did he upset you?’

‘It’s not Jake and it’s not you. I just … Mark, please, please, just answer my question. Do you think Billy is dead?’

I count the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

‘Yes,’ he says softly. ‘Yes, Claire. I think Billy is probably dead.’

‘Why? Why do you think that?’

‘He’s been missing for a long time. The appeal’s been in the news, it’s been in the newspapers. There aren’t many people who haven’t heard his name or seen his photo. If he was staying with someone they would have come forward. If he was injured someone would have found him. And if he was living rough he’d have been recognized. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know that’s not what you want to hear and I can’t believe we’re having this conversation over the phone. Please. Let me come and see you. Let me take you home. I need you. I need to see you.’

There are no words. My head is empty and full all at the same time.

‘Claire? Please talk to me. I’m so worried about you.’

‘I’ll be fine.’ I whisper the words. ‘And I’ll be home soon. I promise. I just need a few days.’

‘Can I ring you? You didn’t answer when I tried your mobile.’

‘It’s in my handbag. I didn’t hear it.’

‘Are you sure this isn’t something I’ve done? Something I’ve said?’

‘I’m sure.’ I can’t bear lying to him like this. There have been lies in our relationship before, of course there have, but they were small ones – the number of men I slept with before I met him, how well the boys behaved when he was away on a conference, how many bottles of wine I drank with Liz on a night out – but nothing like this. Nothing so monumental.