It had been the night we’d gone back to the fair to find Flora. It wasn’t long before she went missing. We’d bumped into Dylan on the Waltzers and he said Flora had already left. But on the way home we found her slumped in the field, absolutely off her head on God knew what. Looking back now she was experiencing a bad trip. She must have taken some kind of hallucinogenic. But in 1994 we were just kids and knew nothing about drugs. We’d managed to help her home and avoid Margot finding out, mainly because Leo had come to the rescue, helping us put Flora to bed. I’d stayed over that night and we’d taken it in turns to watch Flora, to make sure she didn’t choke on vomit or do anything stupid. As far as I’m aware, Margot never had a clue, but when Dylan turned up the next evening to see Flora, Heather went absolutely ballistic, striking him with her riding crop – although I wasn’t there, she told me about it later. And I didn’t blame her.

It was only a few days afterwards that Flora went missing for good.

And all these years later I’m still not convinced that Dylan had had nothing to do with it. He had an alibi in his mum’s boyfriend, apparently, but that doesn’t mean anything. His alibi could have been lying too.

I’ve often wondered if maybe Dylan accidentally gave her a drug overdose, then had help in covering it up; maybe he thought he could convince everyone she’d simply run away. Until it was obvious that she hadn’t: no money had left her account, her passport was still at home and none of her clothes or belongings had been taken. And we all knew that Flora wouldn’t have left her family. She was close to them.

I’ve tried to hunt down Dylan Bird since this all happened but I couldn’t turn up an address for him. ‘How did fucking Harriet Hill find him?’ I spit, stabbing at the paper with my finger. ‘Shit, Ted’s going to go mental. He’s still pissed off that they got the Sheila story.’

Jack swallows his sandwich. ‘Yes, but we’ve got this drugs thing. That’s good. The News don’t have that. And you’ve got the interview with Heather’s uncle later.’

I groan, knowing that won’t be enough for Ted.

‘And they printed the Margot exclusive today. Nobody else has got that either. Jess,’ he places a hand on my shoulder, ‘don’t sweat it.’

‘She must have bloody good contacts. Better than me.’