‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. But what if she comes back?’ Rosie’s question was almost whispered and Hannah could hear the fear behind her words. ‘I can’t do this any more, Hannah.’

‘Rosie? Listen to me. I’m coming over, I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m calling the police too. Stay in the bathroom, keep the door locked. I promise I’m on my way.’

‘I can’t,’ she sobbed.

‘What do you mean, you can’t?’

‘I just can’t do this. I’m sorry.’

‘Rosie? Rosie?’

It was too late. Rosie had disconnected.

Frantically, Hannah called her back, swearing when it went straight to voicemail.

Hoping this wasn’t another situation where her friend was crying wolf, she called the police.

‘She’s going to have a lot of explaining to do if this is another false alarm,’ Josh commented, his tone amicable as he pulled into the driveway of the block of flats where Rosie lived, parking alongside the two police cars. Hannah could see a uniformed officer outside, and some of the residents from the other flats had come out, curious to know what was going on.

His nonchalant attitude, convinced that this was simply another blown-up drama, had actually helped keep Hannah calm on the hour ride to Norwich, but now she was here, her heart was pounding. She didn’t care if this was a wasted trip, she just needed to know that Rosie was okay.

To give Josh his dues, he had come over as soon as she had called him. There was no way Hannah could drive on her twisted ankle and, to be honest, she was so jittery, worrying about Rosie and what she might find at her flat, she would have been a liability on the road.

‘She’s going to be okay, Han,’ he told her now as he turned off the engine. ‘You know that right? We’ve been here before and no doubt we will be here again.’

He didn’t know that, couldn’t know that, but deep down she knew that he was probably right.

‘You can wait here if you want.’

‘And miss out on smugly telling you I told you so?’ Josh’s tone was dry as he unclipped his seat belt, following Hannah out of the car.

‘I’m Rosie Emerson’s friend, Hannah Cole. I called the police,’ Hannah said as she part hopped, part stumbled towards the young uniform standing by the main door. ‘Where is she?’

Before he could answer, another officer was ushering her and Josh up the stairs and into Rosie’s flat.

‘Where is she?’ she repeated, trying to push past him. ‘Let me through. Rosie, where are you?’

Rosie had always been the vulnerable one, the youngest and the smallest in their group, and Hannah had tried her best to protect her.

‘She’s not here.’