‘She took a few pills, I think.’ Lynette was at my elbow. ‘But thank God, I had hardly any left.’

‘What pills?’

‘Just—’ Lynette looked almost furtive. ‘My antidepressants, you know.’

‘You don’t have to be embarrassed in front of me, hon.’

‘Thank you.’ Her pale face flushed puce. ‘Don’t think they’ll do much, the ambulance woman said – there really was only two or three left. I hadn’t picked up my new prescription, thank God.’

‘Ces.’ I knelt beside her. She smelt of vomit. ‘Have you taken anything else? Any other pills?’

She shook her head.

‘I don’t feel very good,’ she croaked. ‘I just wanted to sleep.’ A solitary tear tracked down her face, followed by another one.

‘But we want you to stay awake, honey. Tell us what you’ve taken.’

‘I just want it to stop now,’ she wept. ‘I feel so terrible.’

‘Ah, Ceci, honey.’ My heart turned over. ‘It’s not that bad, is it?’

‘Zach’s hurt and he’s my – he’s my friend. I didn’t mean to do it, but she said she’d make sure no one ever spoke to me again.’

‘Who said that?’

‘Willow. She had some video of me and Zach at her mum’s house, and she said I was a slag, and that you could see everything on the video, like you know – my – up my skirt – and she said,’ she wailed, ‘she’d show everyone – and they’d hate me even more.’

‘I see.’ I sat back on my heels for a second. ‘Are you saying you lied about Zach?’

‘Yes.’ Cecilia was crying so hard now, her face was scarlet, her nose streaming. ‘I was scared.’

‘Breathe, Ceci,’ I told her as her mother stepped forward.

‘It’s OK, Cecilia.’ Lynette patted her back. ‘I’m here, and the ambulance will be soon too.’

I didn’t think she needed an ambulance, but I was glad not to be responsible for that decision. In the end, it was up to Lynette.

‘I don’t care about me,’ Cecilia was sobbing. ‘Those Year 12s beat Zach up really badly. One of them – he kicked him in the face,’ she wailed.

‘Zach’s going to be OK too. He’s in A & E, but nothing’s broken, Ruby says – he was lucky.’ She was still sobbing. ‘Listen, he’ll be OK, Ces – I’ve spoken to Ruby.’ I stood up now. ‘I’ll put the kettle on, yeah?’

In the neat kitchen, I felt suffocated for a moment; really suffocated by it all.

Through the billowing steam from the kettle, I looked out at the postage-stamp garden. Carnations too. Jesus. What was it about the world’s most boring flowers and this family?

Wishing I’d bought some cigarettes on the way round, I found my vape and my phone and opened the back door.

Sitting on the little bench by the tiny fish pond with the stone frogs around it, I rang PC Okoye, for the second time today.

This time, I got through.

‘Did you get my email? I believe Cecilia wants to retract her statement.’