I’m unable to relax. Instead of pacing inside, chewing my nails, waiting for the police to arrive, I walk down the driveway carrying Daisy, with the intention of knocking on my neighbours’ doors. I have to do something. I wish I could call Dominic to let him know what’s going on. To tell him to come back home right now. But he never takes his phone when he’s out running. Please let him be back soon.

It’s still warm out despite the darkening sky. It’s been the kind of summer you don’t usually get in Britain – with a heavy, damp heat that hangs in the air even after the sun goes down. I decide to go to the house next door first. But before my feet get as far as the pavement, a police car pulls into the cul-de-sac and cruises my way.

I lift my free hand and wave them over. Daisy has woken and is staring up at me, transfixed by my face, quiet for now. Content to be in my arms. The vehicle pulls up at the bottom of my driveway and two uniformed male officers get out. I walk down to meet them.

‘Kirstie Rawlings?’ the taller officer asks with a warm Dorset drawl, an indulgent smile on his lips as he sees Daisy in my arms.

‘Yes,’ I reply shakily.

‘Can we come inside?’ he asks. ‘Talk to you about what you heard?’

‘Can you check the neighbours first?’ I say. ‘See if there are any babies missing.’

‘We’d like to hear from you what happened.’ The officer gestures to my front door, trying to guide me up the driveway, but I don’t want them wasting time inside. The kidnappers could be escaping out the back of someone else’s house as we speak.

‘Didn’t the operator tell you?’ I plant myself on the driveway, ‘I heard voices through my baby monitor, saying they were going to take the baby.’

‘Whose baby?’

‘That’s the thing, I don’t know. Please. We need to ask the neighbours. Check they don’t have any babies staying with them.’

‘What did the voice say?’ the other officer asks. ‘Can you remember?’

‘It was something like, quick, let’s take the baby.’

‘Was the voice male or female?’

‘Male. Definitely male.’

‘Can we see the monitor?’ the tall one asks.

I sigh and stride back up the driveway with the officers behind me. I don’t feel any sense of urgency from them. Surely they should be searching the area? Don’t people say that the first few minutes are vital when children go missing? These two are wasting valuable time, missing their opportunity to save a child. The thought gives me chills. What if the kidnappers had come to my house instead of a neighbour’s? Daisy’s window has been open all evening, they could easily have climbed in and taken her. The thought makes me momentarily dizzy. I stop walking and take a breath, the scent of next door’s honeysuckle hanging in the air, thick and strong. Too sweet.

‘You okay?’ one of them asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.

‘We need to hurry,’ I say, pulling myself together and continuing up the driveway. We go in. The monitor is on the sofa where I left it, but it’s silent now.

‘So this monitor links to the one in your baby’s room?’ the shorter officer asks, taking it from me and holding it to his ear. He gives it a shake and twiddles the volume control.

‘Yes. I heard a man’s voice telling someone else that they should take the baby. At first I thought they were in Daisy’s room trying to snatch her. I ran upstairs but there was no one there. Then I heard the voices again in the monitor. It must have somehow picked up the signal from somewhere else. But I don’t know where. None of my neighbours has a baby.’

The officers both look at one another and then the taller one clears his throat. ‘Right, we’ll start knocking on doors, see if anyone else has a monitor which could have somehow picked up your signal.’

‘Thank you,’ I say, relieved they’re finally going to do something. ‘Do you want me to come and help? Save you some time? I know all my neighbours so I could—’

‘No, you stay here. Look after your baby. She’s a sweetheart, isn’t she? I remember when mine were that age. Don’t miss the sleepless nights, though.’

I don’t reply. I just want them to stop talking and go and find those people. I want them caught.

‘Okay, then,’ he says. ‘We’ll stop by on our way back, let you know if we find anything.’

The officers leave. While they’re out there, knocking on doors, I watch out of the lounge window, jiggling Daisy in my arms. She’s becoming restless so I sing a lullaby to sooth her. ‘Hush Little Baby Don’t You Cry’. I can’t remember all the words, but the tune seems to soothe her.

The police are heading over to number six – I should have told them no one’s living there at the moment. It’s a building site; the new owners are having work done before they move in. I contemplate going out to tell them, but they’ll figure it out soon enough, what with all the scaffolding and the huge metal skip in the driveway.

I watch them knock on the door, wait a moment, peer through a window and then move on to our immediate neighbour, Martin. A moving flash of colour catches my eye. A figure at the entrance to the cul-de-sac. Running. My breath catches in my throat before I exhale again in relief. It’s Dominic back from his run, his tall, athletic figure strong and capable. Reassuring. As he approaches, he stares at the police car parked at the bottom of the drive, then he notices the officers standing on Martin’s doorstep.

I rush to the front door. Open it and wave as he jogs up the drive.

‘What are the police doing next door?’ he asks, only ever-so-slightly out of breath.

‘Come in. I’ll tell you.’

Dominic plants a kiss on Daisy’s forehead and then another on my lips. Even when he’s tired, hot and sweaty, my husband has the power to make my heart beat faster. We’ve known each other since we were five years old, and started going out when we were fifteen. He’s my best friend. We tell each other everything.

‘I need to stretch,’ he says, pulling his right leg up behind him, ‘and then I need a shower.’

As he stretches out his hamstrings in the lounge, I sit on the sofa with Daisy in my arms and begin explaining what happened while he was out. When I get to the part about hearing a man’s voice in the monitor, Dom stops stretching, his eyes widen.

‘Wait, what?’ he says. ‘Someone was trying to take Daisy?’

‘I thought they were, but I must have heard someone else’s monitor, because when I got up there, Daisy was fine. There was no one in the room.’

Dom comes over to the sofa, sits by my side and puts his arm around us. ‘That must have been terrifying. Are you okay?’

‘It was awful. I really thought they were trying to take her.’

He straightens up and runs a hand through his short, dark hair. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘It was weird. I felt like I was in a movie or something. I was so scared for Daisy.’ My voice wobbles. ‘I thought we were going to be like those parents you see on TV. You know, the ones who have to put out an appeal to find their missing child.’

‘Hey.’ Dom comes and sits next to me on the sofa. ‘It’s okay. Nothing happened. Our baby is here. She’s safe. No one’s going to take Daisy. Okay? Are you sure you heard it through the monitor?’ he asks. ‘Couldn’t it have been on the telly?’

I shake my head. ‘No, definitely not. I paused the TV and I had the monitor in my hand. The voices came from the monitor. I could see the monitor’s lights flashing while they spoke.’

Dom nods thoughtfully. ‘What did the police say?’

‘They’re going round to all the neighbours, asking if anyone has a baby staying with them.’

‘Good idea.’

‘What if those people are still out there?’ As I voice my concerns, new worries begin to seep into my mind. ‘You hear about these things, don’t you? Baby-smuggling rings where they take young children and sell them to rich couples abroad. It happens.’

‘Kirstie, we live in Wimborne. It’s not exactly rife with international crime. I’m pretty sure there aren’t any baby-smuggling rings in Dorset.’ A sympathetic smile creeps onto his lips, but there’s absolutely no part of this that is amusing to me.

‘How do you know?’ I reply. ‘Maybe it would be the perfect place – a sleepy little town in England where no one suspects that anything bad could happen.’

‘Let’s wait and see what the police say.’ He puts an arm around me and kisses the side of my head. ‘I know what happened must’ve been scary, but try not to worry.’

I murmur agreement, but my brain is still racing with all the awful possibilities. I shudder at the thought of those whispered voices and what they were discussing. That they could have chosen my house and my baby. I’m going to have to be more careful. I’m going to have to make the house more secure. The idea of someone taking Daisy – it doesn’t bear thinking about. My stomach gives a sudden lurch, and I have the sensation that something has irrevocably shifted.

That nothing in our lives will ever be quite the same again.