‘Oh please,’ he says. ‘Everyone blabs eventually. Everyone, unless they’re guilty … and actually, sometimes that doesn’t even matter. Any legal obligations, if they even exist, are worth shit when we’re dealing with grooming and abuse on such a grand scale … Off somewhere, are you?’

‘I need to use the bathroom,’ I say, swaying as I stand. ‘Sorry, won’t be a sec…’

I stumble down the aisle through the doors at the end and lean against the tiny sink in the mercifully empty toilet cubicle, every thud of the train clicking another jagged piece of jigsaw into place in my head. Someone inside the police knows for sure what really happened, but Dominic still doesn’t have enough to prove it. And I know how he can, but surely I’m not contemplating telling him without knowing the full story first? There have been too many lies for that, and Kayleigh … I spit into the sink, heartbeat accelerating up my throat as someone knocks on the door.

‘Please, my baby needs changing,’ a voice stammers, a baby’s screams fighting with the clatter of the train on its final push out of the station.

‘I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but if you could just let us use…’

The words die in her throat as I push open the door.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she stammers again, squeezing the baby in her arms, its cheeks slushy-red with heat and fury. ‘I didn’t realise it was you … and after you were so kind to buy me some tea…’

She dissolves, sagging in the doorway as she sobs. I am rooted to the spot as the carriage doors slide open behind her to reveal 199Dominic, pausing for a moment before striding forth, wrapping a suited arm around her shoulders, crooning as he reaches for the baby, easing off its woolly hat, shedding two layers of its blankets, guiding her back towards the carriage with one arm while rocking and soothing the baby in the crook of his other. I watch the whole thing like a phantom. Is it a fragment of a dream? The doors slide open again as he walks her back to her seat, settling the now-contented baby in her arms like a doll.

‘You were right,’ he says as he walks back towards me, brushing fluff off his arm. ‘The poor kid was boiling. Cooking, more like. She may as well have put her in the fucking microwave. Are you finished in there or what? I need a wazz. Come on…’

I open and close my mouth but nothing comes out. He snorts.