‘That’s the one,’ Kim said, pointing to a small bungalow at the end of a row of identical properties that had housed Lorraine Peters’s mum for almost six years. The small front garden was overgrown with weeds that came up to her knee. Kim saw recycling bags shoved into the corner by the front door, which opened as they approached.

Kim guessed the woman to be early- to mid-fifties, reed thin, with bobbed purple hair. She wore a blue overall and held the keys to the property in her hand.

‘Maggie Peters?’ Bryant asked.

‘Inside,’ the woman said, blocking the door. ‘She don’t need no windows, a new drive or boiler and she’s got a bible.’

‘Good to know,’ Kim said. ‘But we’re not selling anything. We’re police officers.’

‘Oh, okay then,’ she said, but still didn’t move.

‘Is Mrs Peters at home?’ Bryant asked.

‘ID,’ the woman demanded.

They both obliged as Kim noticed the stickers on the front window about cold callers and unsolicited visitors.

‘Can’t be too careful,’ the woman said. ‘Only last week she had two nice ladies come to tell her she needed to go to the bank and transfer her money cos staff at the bank were stealing it from her.’

Kim ground her teeth. Yet another scam that played on the fears of the elderly.

‘Luckily, she phoned me before agreeing to anything,’ she said. ‘And by the time I got here they were gone.’

‘And you are?’

‘Maggie’s home help, carer, whatever they call us these days, and I live just over the field.’

Kim followed her through a small hallway into a lounge that looked out onto the road.

A thin frail woman smiled at them from the single armchair that faced both the window and the small television in the corner. A small-two seater sofa lined the back wall. Part of the sofa was occupied by a few books and a knitting bag.

‘Mrs Peters?’ Kim asked, offering her hand.

The woman took it and nodded as she looked around them.

‘Shelly?’

‘It’s okay, Mags, they’re the police.’

Maggie looked less than convinced it was all in order.

Kim took a seat in the vacant spot as Bryant began to move the woman’s possessions to the side.

Shelly stood in the doorway.

‘We’re fine now, thanks,’ Kim said, aware that the woman had been on her way out.

‘Yeah, so am I,’ Shelly said, folding her arms. She wasn’t going anywhere.

Maggie smiled fondly. ‘She’s a Godsend. Takes care of me every day. I don’t move so well any more,’ she said.

Kim calculated that she was only mid seventies but appeared around ten years older.

‘Arthritis,’ she said. ‘Rheumatoid arthritis in the joints, probably from the swimming.’

‘You were a swimmer too?’ Bryant asked.

‘She was indeed,’ Shelly said, reaching for a photograph from the windowsill. ‘Competed in the Commonwealth Games, you know. Came fourth,’ she said, proudly.

But Maggie Peters wasn’t listening. Her eyes were on Bryant. Her body might be failing her, but her mind was wide awake.

‘You said “too”, officer,’ she breathed. ‘Are you here about Lorraine?’

Kim could hear both fear and hope in her voice. Maybe it was the fear to hope. She nodded at Bryant for him to continue.

‘Mrs Peters, we’re—’

‘Maggie, please,’ she said, quietly.

Bryant nodded. ‘We’re here because of certain incidents at Heathcrest. The name of your daughter came up,’ he explained. ‘We understand she was on a full scholarship at Heathcrest,’ he said, guiding her gently back into the past.

Shelly sat on the arm of Maggie’s chair and took her hand.

‘Yes, she was approached at a regional championship gala. She was so excited and so was I. Her father, God rest his soul, was not as keen. And neither was Lorraine after we visited.

‘We were shown around Heathcrest, and the more excited I got the quieter she became. Visiting the place had highlighted the possibilities for me but had brought home the reality of leaving all her friends and everything that was familiar for Lorraine.

‘Her father told her to make the right choice for herself and that we would be fine with whatever she wanted to do.’

‘And you?’ Bryant probed for the words she wanted to say.

Maggie shook her head. ‘It’s what I wanted to say. It’s what I should have said but I honestly thought that Heathcrest would be a fantastic opportunity for her. She would have access to better facilities, one-on-one coaching, focused training and a top-notch education to boot. I knew that with her talent and their expertise my girl would be swimming in the Olympics. And she would have been…’

‘Was she happy there?’ Bryant asked.

Maggie smiled. ‘I tried to convince myself that she was. She’d lost some of her sparkle, but I told myself that she’d be fine once she made some new friends. Her training was going well. She’d shaved almost three seconds off her personal best. Her coach was entering her into higher pressure meets to acclimatise her to the world of competitive swimming.’

‘So, what happened?’ Bryant asked.

‘She met a boy,’ Maggie said, simply. ‘Her attention moved from her training and also from her studies. She started missing sessions and questioning her coach.

‘I got a call asking if I’d speak to her. Attempt to refocus her attention. And I did so, earlier that day.’

‘The day she died?’ Bryant asked.

Maggie nodded. ‘That’s when she told me she was pregnant.’

‘And did she tell you who the father was?’ Bryant asked.

Kim held her breath. One name. All they needed was one name.

Maggie shook her head.

‘She said it was a secret but that he was as happy about the baby as she was and that they were meeting later that night to discuss their future.’

‘So, you’re saying that the father of the child definitely knew about the pregnancy?’ Kim asked.

‘Oh yes, officer. He definitely knew.’