Ten minutes passed, and Louisa was about to walk out the front door when she saw movement outside. Three shapes approached the glass. She opened the door, her jaw gaping at what she saw.

Emily, Brian … and Oliver. He had the pram.

Brian raised his eyebrows at Louisa, but didn’t offer up any explanation as he walked in, followed by a sheepish-looking Emily – then Oliver, who bumped the pram up and over the threshold.

‘Sorry to worry you,’ Oliver said, his hand on Louisa’s shoulder. ‘I saw Emily out on her own with the pram, thought it a little disconcerting at this time in the morning—’

‘And why were you out at this time?’ she said, glaring at him. He looked taken aback for a moment, then a mask slipped down, over his face – his expression serious.

‘I haven’t been sleeping, Lou. I’ve either been out driving or walking, trying to get my head around Melissa’s disappearance. By this evening it’ll have been a week. A whole week, and nothing.’ He was doing the thing with his eyes again: head lowered, eyes upwards. Like a dog that thinks it’s done something bad and wants to make itself appear cute and lovable so that the owner forgives it. Louisa didn’t respond. She closed the front door.

Like a bizarre gathering, the four of them, plus Noah, stood in the kitchen, each leaning against a different part of the worktop. The kettle was boiling, and four mugs were lined up ready for coffee. Louisa could never have envisaged this scene in a lifetime. Brian turned his back while he made the drinks; the clinking of the spoon against the china was the only sound. Someone had to break the spell.

‘How come you took Noah out, Emily?’ Louisa asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. Calm.

‘He was crying.’ She shrugged.

‘He cries every morning; you’ve never even taken him from his cot before. What made you do that today?’

‘Thought it would give you some extra time in bed. You looked like you needed it. Dad and Tiff said—’

‘Emily,’ Brian cut in, his voice low; his tone a warning.

Brian and Tiff. Again. Louisa felt as though they were making some attempt to overthrow her. That they were mounting an intervention, or mutiny. Ganging up on her. She looked to Oliver, his eyes sorrowful. Because of Melissa, or because he could feel it too?

‘Why are you even here, Oliver?’ she said. Her words shocked her. Again, she’d had that thought, but didn’t realise she’d voiced it.

Oliver smiled as he took the mug of coffee from Brian, then turned to face Louisa.

‘Honestly?’ He lowered his gaze again. ‘I’m lost. I’m back in Devon, where everyone I once knew has long gone, apart from you. And my wife is missing.’