It was, unfortunately, a chargeable offence, Jon explained quietly in the corridor as we waited for the video interview room to become free. It was worse for Zach because, not only was there the allegation, there was also a witness.

‘A witness?’ But I knew who he meant before he spoke her name.

Still, I had the feeling the man was sympathetic when he said, ‘We’d really like to keep the lad out of somewhere like Feltham, ma’am.’

My blood went cold. ‘Feltham?’ I knew the young offenders institution’s reputation from my time as a social worker. Then there was my neighbour Mrs Goodrich’s son, Alfie: in and out of custody as a teen, mainly for joyriding.

‘Yep.’ Jon nodded. ‘But don’t panic yet. It’s hard to know at this stage what we’ll be able to do if, God forbid, it goes to trial.’

‘Trial?’ I felt the hairs on my neck go up. ‘Is that even a possibility?

Everything was suddenly moving faster than a runaway juggernaut.

‘We definitely can’t rule it out at this stage, I’m afraid.’

‘Ready?’ Graham Dudds stuck his head out of the interview room door. ‘Come on then, Zach.’

In the small beige room, my anxiety could have been traced like a graph on the wall, so high did it go, as Zach just repeated almost verbatim what he’d said on Sunday. Only this time there was an actual video camera recording all his words: marking them down forever.

Zach insisted that at no point had Cecilia said no when he’d touched her; that she’d seemed to enjoy it, that it was consensual.

‘She’s my friend,’ he said over and again. ‘I’d never hurt her.’

And he didn’t cry this time: rather, he looked stunned.

Throughout, he still swore blind – and on his father’s life – that he was telling the truth, that he would never ever have tried to force her to do anything, and the officers made notes and turned the camera on and off, sometimes to confer quietly.

No one was unpleasant, although Dudds kept trying to get him to ‘tell the whole truth, son’ which made the skin on the back of my neck prickle.

Towards the end, just before they explained they were charging him, Zach cleared his throat and said, ‘Can I ask a question?’

‘Sure.’ Dudds leant back in his chair, legs splayed. He was that type of man. ‘Fire away, son.’

‘If Willow saw this… thing she says happened…’ Zach stumbled through words that he couldn’t get out fast enough, tears in his eyes. My heart was breaking in my chest as I watched my child gather himself. Little big man.

‘Yes?’

‘I mean, if she thought I was doing something bad – then why didn’t she stop it when she saw it?’

The YOT officer, Jon, made a small note on his pad – and I felt a surge of hope.

‘Who knows?’ Dudds dropped his eyes, and my hope died again. ‘Right. So, can you wait outside please?’