Waving goodbye with the little energy I can pull from my exhausted body, I thank everyone for their lovely presents and wish them safe home. The smile on my face is forced, which hurts.

My dad didn’t stay long, just long enough to unsettle me. Why did he call today? He’s never come to any other birthday parties. I’m surprised he even remembered it was the boys’ birthday. But he handed them a card each. Money, his answer to everything.

When the last of the crowd have finally gone and the door is firmly closed, Ellen asks if I want her to stay until I hear from Tom.

‘No thanks, Ellen, you’ve been a great help; go home, Jack is waiting outside for you. I’ll call as soon as I hear from Tom.’

Jack is Ellen’s new man. Well, maybe not new, she’s been with him almost six years but that’s what he’s still known as. Ellen’s new man. Her first husband Thomas, Tom’s dad, died fourteen years ago when Amber was a one-year-old. It took a lot out of Tom, especially the two years of suffering his father went through. In and out of hospitals. The treatment is working. The treatment isn’t working. Hope given. Hope taken away until eventually there’s no hope at all.

‘Be sure to call,’ Ellen says, giving me a hug, which I find unusual. ‘I’m sure he’s okay, Sally,’ she whispers in my ear.

Pulling a twenty from her purse, Ellen hands it to Amber whose face lightens momentarily.

‘Do what your mother says, young woman.’

‘I will, Nan, I always do.’ A puff of laughter leaves my mouth. Pulling Amber closer to me I hug her arm. ‘Well, I do.’

‘I know you do, sweetie,’ I say, pushing a stray hair from her face. ‘Most of the time.’

Amber’s phone beeps sending her hurtling towards the table where it lights up. Ellen’s hand waves in the air as she walks down the pathway towards Jack who nods when he sees me. He’s a quiet man, doesn’t like to come into the house or join any family events. He’s an outsider and wants to keep it that way. Wise man.

When I close the door Amber is already halfway up the stairs. Cian and Aaron are in the playroom tearing toys out of bullet-proof packaging. I’m tearing my hair out.

I need to contact Tom. I’m really worried now. Should I call the police? How long do I have to wait before I can call them? A grown man gone missing for six hours is not going to cause much concern to the force. Especially on a Sunday afternoon when half the pubs in the country are pulling pints to the anthems of whatever football teams are playing.