She touches the sleeve of my new black wool coat. Boxy shoulders, square front pockets, stand-up collar. Simon gave me the money for it, folding a fifty, still warm from his wallet, into my palm. He keeps his wallet in the breast pocket of his rainmac. The black leather’s so new it creaks when I open it. Inside, there’s a photo of a woman – not my mum, not me. A neat blonde bob and flat red lipstick. It must be his ex-wife, the one Mum told me chucked him out because they couldn’t have children. I’ve thought about taking that photo, hiding it in my knicker drawer. Just to see what happens.

‘Come in and have a cup of tea, Joanna, love.’

‘Is Shane in?’

She cranes her neck around the doorframe, as if she can spot him from there. ‘He’s in the shed, where he always is. Isn’t he?’

‘No.’

Her mouth makes a round ‘O’ shape and she blinks a few times and yawns. Then she grabs at my sleeve again and holds on. ‘Come in and have a cup of tea.’

‘I can’t.’

‘There’s cake. The Thorn Birds is on in a minute.’

‘But I have to find him.’

My voice must sound urgent, because she nods and lets go of my arm. ‘All right, love.’ She thinks for a minute. Then she says, ‘Oh. I know where he might be. He’s got a new job.’

‘Where?’

‘Down the farm. Plucking turkeys for Christmas.’

As I open the gate, I hear her call out behind me, ‘Have you heard from your Dad?’ But I know she knows the answer.

The farm is on the other side of Calcot. There’s a short cut from the church lane, past the pools and across the fields. Shane won’t worry about walking back this way, even though it’s really dark now. So dark he won’t know where the fields stop and the sky starts. Or where the gap between the bushes down to the water is.

There’s still a light on down the lane. I run my hand along the icy graveyard wall. My fingers are stiff with cold. The wind’s getting stronger. It blows strands of hair across my face, into my mouth. I hook them out and look into the blackness ahead.

That sign will be above me now. Possible Entrapment.

I step off the path and head through the twiggy trees to the look-out where I was with Simon earlier. I can wait for Shane to walk by there.

The place is totally different in the dark. I have to feel along the wall for the entrance, and I snag my fingerless glove on a splinter. There’s a smell of piss that I didn’t notice this afternoon.