Finally, I woke up to myself, and the facts, as presented by Willow – and all hell broke loose.

Melissa

After Nella left, Cecilia and I had sat on the sofa nursing mugs of tea, me still struggling with my hangover, Cecilia declaring that Nella’s accusations were all rubbish.

‘We just had a snog, all right?’

I could see the shadow of pride on her face, which made sense to me. She liked Zach a lot. I’d known for a long time and had it finally confirmed on the camping trip in August. The way they’d looked at one another.

I’d seen them together last night; thick as thieves, while I was still drinking in the garden, with—

Oh God. I couldn’t even remember who with.

But, I thought, this is a storm in a teacup. It will blow over.

For all my mistrust of the police though, the officer who turned up later on our doorstep – to my dismay – did seem nice enough.

And yet, once she was in our house, I started to feel – antsy. I couldn’t help myself.

PC Okoye.

She drank the cup of tea I made her, ate a ginger nut or two, and she was patient and gentle with Ceci, for which I was grateful, as I listened from my corner on the sofa. Rex was still at golf, for which I was more grateful.

She looked a bit like my auntie Bev, in fact: my second foster mum, the one who actually gave a damn.

The one who’d saved me from the eternal damnation promised by the one before, who used to smack me with her Bible.

‘Right then, love.’ PC Okoye put her notebook away when Cecilia had finished. ‘Well, if you’re sure, we can leave it there for now. But if you want to tell me anything else, you give me a ring. Day or night, OK?’

Cecilia nodded. She’d been monosyllabic for most of the questioning, and from a distance, she didn’t look great: her face pale, stripped of yesterday’s make-up, her spots flaring in patches again, her hair limp and twisty in places from the koala ears.

As we walked to the door, the policewoman fished something from her pocket.

‘Oh – and I think this is yours.’ It was a library card, the blue of the borough, imprinted with Cecilia Whitaker. ‘Coke’s not a good idea, love, and especially not if you’ve had a drink. Or ketamine, if it was that.’

We both stared at her blankly.

‘Coke?’

‘It leads to a loss of inhibition, increased heart rate, or worse, if you’re unlucky.’

‘You mean, coke as in – cocaine?’ I stared at the woman.

‘But I don’t!’ Ceci shook her head, confused. ‘I don’t take coke, or ket. I don’t do drugs at all.’

‘Really?’ The policewoman raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, you want to be more careful who you lend your cards to then.’

‘Thanks so much, Officer.’ I took the library card from her. ‘I’ll see you out.’