‘If you say so, Mummy.’ She picks up her dolls from the windowsill and nests them.

‘I do. Now promise me.’

‘I promise.’ She puts the dolls down again then pushes them from her.

Kissing her forehead, I pray. She is such an honest child, but I know she can do this. I’m not asking too much of her. I can’t be. She has to lie.

‘Mummy, when you followed them, what did you see?’

I hold her away from me so that she can see my face. I school my expression, suppressing the memory. ‘I found the two of them having a smoke and talking about the prospect for sailing the following day.’

‘Oh.’

‘So, it was nothing, darling. Just put it all from your mind.’

Diana presses her lips together for a moment. My heart aches. What am I doing to my child?

‘I will.’

The doorbell rings. ‘Now that will be the policeman. Are you ready, my love?’

She shakes her head, then looks down as she stands.

‘Is there something else?’

She nods. Her small shoulders are hunched slightly forward. Gone is her immaculate ballet posture. I know there is something else but we can’t postpone this any longer. I have to hope that if she hasn’t told me, then she will not tell a stranger.

I hold out my hand and she grabs it. Together we leave her room and head down the stairs. It is the first time in ages she doesn’t take them two at a time.

By the hallway table stand Mrs Hoskine, Tom and the chief inspector. All eyes are on us. Again, I am struck by the intensity of Mrs Hoskine’s stare. Tom, however looks more diminished by the moment. His fair hair is in disarray and dark circles fill the hollows under his eyes. The world has dropped from under him. Allan was his best friend.

‘Mrs Trewin.’ The detective steps forward. ‘Diana.’ He pauses. ‘Shall we go into the office?’

Nodding, I keep a firm hold of Diana’s hand even after we enter the small room. An extra chair has already been placed in there, making the room feel even smaller.

I let Diana choose where to sit. It is no surprise she selects her father’s chair at the desk. Her little hands grip the wooden arms. Pushing away my guilt, I focus on Diana.

The detective takes a seat and I hover before sitting. If I could, I would run, run as far as I can from here. But glancing at my daughter’s serious face, I know I will never be able to run away. My deeds will be with me always.

‘Now, Diana. Can you tell me about Saturday?’

She nods but doesn’t speak.

‘Yes,’ he said. She still doesn’t say a word.

‘He’s waiting for you.’ I smile.