The second I see her face, the rest of the world begins to shift out of focus. The rational part of my brain tells me that it’s impossible. But the rest of my brain is in shock. ‘Holly,’ I murmur.

‘Mum!’ The girl stares at Kate accusingly. ‘You were ages! You said you’d only be a few minutes. I didn’t know when you were coming back, and you didn’t answer your phone!’

Kate checks her mobile. ‘Oh, it’s on silent for some reason. Sorry, darling. Your brother and sister were late coming out.’

The girl is tall and willowy with dark wavy hair and a heart-shaped face. Her lips are full, and she has a snub nose sprinkled with freckles. But it’s her eyes that have unsettled me the most. They’re a vivid green. Just like Holly’s.

This girl is the spitting image of my missing daughter. Older yes, but the resemblance is striking.

For a moment I stand, paralysed, unable to catch my breath. Flashbacks to my lost daughter laughing as I tickled her, or glowering at me with her emerald eyes before launching into one of her dreaded terrible-two tantrums. Me staring down at her as she slept, stroking the hair away from her heart-shaped face and kissing the freckles on her nose.

Right now though, this tween girl is looking at me as though I’m some crazy stranger. Which I suppose I am, really.

‘Are you okay, Rachel?’ Kate is speaking to me, but I can’t find my voice to reply. I nod, still staring at her eldest daughter. I swallow.

‘Mum!’ Jess shakes my arm. ‘Mum, you’re being embarrassing.’

I drag my eyes away from Bella and give Jess a distracted smile. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘Come on, Mum, let’s go. I’ve got to do my homework and then me and Amy are going to Facetime.’ She smiles at her new friend and rolls her eyes in my direction.

‘Okay, yes, coming.’ My heart is pounding and my ears are ringing as I attempt to process my thoughts and emotions, but I’m trying to behave normally so that Kate doesn’t think I’m an utter lunatic. ‘So, Kate, we’ll sort out that play date for the kids, okay? I’ll text you.’

She gives me a puzzled look and nods.

Somehow, we say our goodbyes, and I stutter something vague about remembering something I have to do, trying to explain away my odd behaviour. They get into Kate’s little Fiat and I start walking home with my two, the icy wind buffeting us as we go. The children talk about the various issues they’ve had throughout the day. I’m usually attentive and chatty, but right now I can barely decipher a single word they’re saying, let alone respond.

All I can think about is Kate’s eldest daughter.