‘When am I going to get a good-morning kiss?’ I tickle him in the ribs and he shrieks as he kicks his pyjama-clad legs, his hair tousled with sleep and dreams.

My legs feel leaden as I cross to the door, Archie’s arms wrapped around my neck as I carry him like a baby monkey. I’d tossed and turned much of last night as beside me George had done the same. I’ve almost made my mind up that I won’t go into work today but when I reach the bottom of the stairs there’s another envelope on the mat. I set Archie down. He zooms into the kitchen, his arms stretched sideways as he makes the noise of a plane.

I scoop the letter from the mat. Before I even open it, I know what it’s going to say.

Three days.

I peep out from behind the lounge curtain into the street but it’s empty. Dull. The morning sky grey and bulging with cloud. Suddenly home alone is the last place I want to be. I want Archie to be safe at nursery behind the locked gate and the door with the access code. I want to be in my office among people, outside of this cul de sac, outside of my own head.

My phone rings – Carly’s photo flashes up. It was taken during a picnic at the park with Archie. She’s smiling as she watches him kick a ball. Her skin is tanned – it’s the only time the faint scar on her cheek from the cut she sustained in the van is visible.

‘I’ve got another letter,’ she says as soon as I pick up.

‘Me too.’

‘What should we do?’

‘I don’t see what we can do. If we go back to the police they’ll say it’s some crackpot or journalist again.’

‘Are you going to work?’

‘Yes. Are you okay to collect Archie?’

‘Yes. Leah…’ Her shallow breaths drift down the line. The catch of tears in her voice. ‘We have to stay strong. It will all be over soon.’ She’s a million miles away from the image on my phone of the laughing girl. Almost as though fate cruelly let me glimpse into the life she could have had.

‘Three days,’ I say grimly before I hang up.

Tash is already at her desk. As soon as I settle into my seat she crosses the room. ‘The photocopier is buggered. I’ve rung the repair company and somebody will come out today.’

‘Okay.’ I stifle a yawn.

‘And Janet has called in sick so there aren’t any morning papers.’ Lionel, my boss, still provides a selection of newspapers for his staff. He hasn’t quite grasped yet that we can all read the news online.

‘Did you get another letter?’ She perches on the edge of my desk. I make a mental note to disinfect it again when she stands up.

‘How do you know about the letters?’ I hadn’t spoken to her much yesterday. I hadn’t spoken to anyone much.