‘Dad said you’re writing a book about Alice Lang.’

She said the two words of Alice’s name with deliberate casualness.

‘Yes,’ said Will. He cleared his throat. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘At least you know now how the story ends.’

Mr Bradshaw was back with the drinks. ‘Breakfasts are coming,’ he said.

‘Lovely, thanks, Daddy,’ said Daisy.

Daddy! She must be forty years old!

Daisy took a bite of toast and chewed loudly. ‘So, are you married, Will? Do you have any children?’

‘No and no.’

‘Dad said you were on your own. He said…’ she lowered her voice and leaned across the table towards Will, ‘… he said you seemed lonely.’

‘I’m not lonely.’

‘I have two girls,’ Daisy said, although Will hadn’t asked. ‘I’m the opposite of lonely. I crave time on my own. Jennifer is my good daughter – she’s seventeen now, just about to sit her A levels – and Erin is thirteen and was put on this earth to test me. The child is a nightmare. I married Dale Parker. Do you remember Dale from school? Quiet boy. Well-built. He used to be mad about Star Wars. We’re divorced now. We were never really suited. We both did our best for the sake of the girls but…’ she trailed off and looked at Will with an expression of tortured sincerity. Will thought, Oh God! Was she was trying to convey that she had never got over him?

Before he had the chance to process this information, the local news came on the radio. The first item was about a crash on the M5. Traffic was in chaos.

This was followed by a solemn announcement that the police had issued a new appeal for witnesses who might remember anything about twenty-three-year-old Alice Lang, who had gone missing from Channel View holiday park twenty-four years earlier. They were especially interested in anyone who’d been at the park on the day she disappeared. They said any information, no matter how trivial it seemed, might be important.

Will had been expecting this but still it was a shock. He could not sit there, opposite Daisy, with her scrutinising him. He could not look into her eyes, knowing that he’d see some tiny glint of satisfaction now that it had been confirmed, once and for all, that Alice was out of the picture. He could not sit there knowing that he, himself, might be the man responsible.

He pushed back his chair. ‘I’m sorry, Daisy,’ he said, ‘but I have to go.’

‘Where do you—’

‘I’ve things I have to do.’

‘Well, perhaps we could have a cup of tea later and—’

‘No,’ said Will, ‘sorry, but no.’