He reaches out and squeezes my hand. ‘It’s fine. It’s been nice to see you, Jess. But the story you’re writing – whatever angle you’re going on – well, I can’t help you. I don’t want to be associated with any of it. I’ve got a new life now. I don’t want the press dredging it all up so that people can point the finger at me again. Do you understand?’

I nod. ‘Of course.’

‘I’m sorry not to be more help.’ He gets up from the table and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. ‘Take care of yourself.’ And then he’s gone, disappearing out of the door and onto the dark streets.

I sit and drink the rest of my latte. I’m now alone in the café apart from a woman behind the counter who’s humming to herself as she cleans the coffee machine. Then I gather up my things and pull on my coat. I don’t want to go home. The atmosphere in the flat has reached breaking point.

We’re still only communicating out of necessity. I know things can’t go on as they are: we will, at some point, have that difficult talk.

I’m disappointed in my conversation with Leo. I sensed a bitter man and, for the first time, I appreciate how difficult it must have been for him: the prime suspect in a young girl’s disappearance, all those gossips and pointing fingers. No wonder he couldn’t wait to flee the place.

Just as I’m about to leave the café my phone rings. It’s Margot and I almost drop my mobile in my excitement. And then my stomach lurches. Does she know I’ve just met up with her brother? Did Leo ring her to tell her?

‘Jess. I need to talk to you. Would you like to come over?’

‘Tonight?’

‘Only if it’s no problem. But we can do another night if you’d rather.’

‘No! I’d love to come tonight. Thank you. I’ll be with you in about forty minutes.’

I put my phone away and leave the café. It’s not raining but the wind has picked up. It circles my ankles, pulling at the hem of my coat, like an excitable puppy.