Nick was the first to reach Maggie in the garden. He was trying to slow down her sobs with a steadying hand on her shoulder, crouching down beside her, talking softly as she shook and wept. ‘Stay calm, Maggie. What’s happened? Speak to me…’

Claire also heard the scream and ran outside, dashing up to Maggie, flinging her arms around her. She didn’t care what Callum had said any more. Maggie fell forward and flopped down onto her knees in the grass. Claire supported her as she went down. ‘Maggie, what is it? Please tell us.’

She pointed to the telephone dropped on the grass, sobbing. ‘The police have… they’ve found a pair of denim shorts.’ Her words were tissue-paper thin on the breeze. ‘And some underwear.’

‘Oh God,’ Nick said, clenching his fists and closing his eyes.

‘What else did they say?’ Claire asked. Jason and Callum rushed out, having heard the noise. ‘Let’s give her some space,’ she said, indicating for everyone to step back. ‘Did they say the clothing belonged to Rain?’

‘They think so, yes. A woman walking her dog found them wrapped up in a carrier bag. She’d heard the story on the news and called the police,’ Maggie’s lips trembled. ‘They said there was blood on the shorts.’

---

The day had been a scorcher, she’d never forget that. It was emblazoned on her mind as much as the growing panic and fear as she and the others charged up and down the beach. Claire was soon in tears. Nick was silent but diligent in his search and Jason, when he came back from wherever he’d gone off to do, darted about asking people if they’d seen his little sister, tearing across their spread-out towels and picnics, kicking sand over everything.

Twenty minutes later, they assembled back at their own pile of discarded towels and food. The tide had crept up and wet their stuff yet again. ‘She’s nowhere,’ Claire said through choked sobs. ‘Please, dear God, don’t let me have lost her.’ She doubled up, then stood straight again, scanning down the beach.

Then Jason started laughing – almost mockingly, she’d thought – as she’d gone back over things in her mind. ‘Listen to yourself, Claire. Lenni walked along the beach, went to the ice cream shop, most likely bumped into a friend, got chatting, got distracted, then went home without coming back to tell you. You know she’s away with the fairies most of the time.’

Claire thought about this. Relief washed through her. ‘Yes, yes, you’re right. I’m being silly.’ She touched her temples, frowning, even though she knew that Lenni didn’t have any friends. ‘Why don’t you go back home on the shingle track route with Mags. Nick and I will take the long route past the shops to look again.’

Everyone agreed. She prayed one of them would find Lenni sitting on a log with ice cream dribbling down her chin, loving her new-found freedom and perhaps chatting with someone from her class. All the other kids were allowed out all over the place in the holidays, unlike cooped-up Lenni, and so the novelty of being able to hang out if she’d bumped into anyone would be too great to resist.

‘See you back at the farm,’ Claire called out, as she and Nick walked off carrying most of their stuff. Maggie and Jason gathered up the remainder of the belongings and headed for the shingle track.

‘She will be OK, won’t she?’ Maggie asked, as they reached the top of the cliff. Even though they took the route regularly, she was out of breath. They continued along the gently rising path heading inland, Maggie walking backwards so she could get a view of the beach below in case the skinny little girl in her too-big swimsuit wandered back to where they’d been sitting. She could clearly see the message that Claire had written in the sand: Go home Lenni. They’d also told a lady sitting nearby that if she saw a little girl lost, please tell her to go home.

‘She’ll be fine,’ Jason said, sounding bored. ‘I don’t know why we’re all panicking. The surf’s just getting good.’ He eyed the sea longingly.

But they were all back at the beach soon enough. Maggie and Jason reached the farm, discovering that Lenni hadn’t come home as they’d hoped. Shona, oblivious to Lenni’s disappearance at this point, was talking to B & B guests and so they didn’t interrupt. The pair sat outside on a wall in the courtyard and, half an hour later, Claire and Nick marched down the drive, their faces expectant, salty and tanned. ‘Any sign at the shops?’ Maggie called out to them.

‘No. Didn’t she come home?’

Maggie shook her head.

‘God, will you come with me to search down at the beach again,’ Claire said, feeling the panic rising.

‘Did you ask at the ice cream shop if she’d been in?’ Jason said.

‘No, but we looked inside and saw she wasn’t there,’ Nick replied, thinking they should have done. ‘I’ll go back and check. Look, we’ll find her. She’s not stupid.’

Everyone was silent as the weight of that sunk in. Lenni was stupid. Not because she couldn’t do her sums or hum a tune or bake a cake or play board games – no. Lenni was touched with something that no one had ever identified, a cowl of innocence that she’d been born with. Her delightful, trusting nature radiated from her and may as well have been a sign on her head. A sign that told the unscrupulous that she was ripe for the picking. The way she allowed the kids at school to take her belongings, how she offered up her dinner money, or let them ruin her solitary games at playtime, over the years it had made her seem stupid. The more her parents smothered and protected her, the more they tried to keep her safe and out of harm’s way, the weaker her defences became. Until she had none left. Lenni would believe absolutely anything anyone told her.

---

‘Rain’s not bloody stupid,’ Maggie kept saying. ‘She wouldn’t just go off with anyone.’

‘I’m sure she’s not,’ PC Wyndham replied. Her arrival at the farm, along with PC Holt, had made the group fear bad news, although she’d put their minds at rest immediately. ‘There’s not much more to report, I’m afraid.’

There was a collective sigh of relief. Clothing likely belonging to Rain may have been found, but as long as there was no body, then there was a strong possibility she was still alive.

‘I feel so helpless. She didn’t take her phone or purse and that’s just not like her.’ Maggie was going over everything again and again. She drank whatever anyone put into her hands – water, tea, a bedtime Scotch to help her fitful sleep – but she hadn’t eaten more than a few morsels since Sunday afternoon. She kept repeating unhelpful facts, staring blankly at the wall, thinking back to when Rain was a little girl, a toddler, a baby, as if forcing back time in her mind might allow her to relive it all over again, give her a second chance.

‘It’s actually Marcus I’ve come to see,’ the officer said, making Claire take Callum’s fingers as she edged closer to him.

‘Not without a lawyer, you don’t,’ Callum said. ‘You’ve spoken to him once. Marcus hasn’t done anything wrong. You’re harassing the boy.’

‘I’m certainly not implying he has done anything wrong, Mr Rodway. But the nightclub has provided CCTV recordings from the rear of their property. It’s a secluded alley and they’ve had a few concerns in the past, so they installed cameras.’

‘He isn’t in trouble, is he?’ Shona asked.

‘Not if he helps us with our enquiries, no.’ The PC’s tone was kind and calm, unlike Callum who was bristling.

The back door suddenly flung open and a flood of noise and banter spilt into the kitchen. ‘Hey, Nan,’ Marcus said, eyeing everyone, shoving against Alex with a raucous, incongruous noise that soon faded when they realised the officers were in the room. They stumbled to a stop beside the sink.

‘I told you,’ Callum reiterated, while glaring at Marcus. ‘If you want to speak to my son, then he’ll need a solicitor.’

‘Cal, I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ Claire said. ‘What about if my husband sits in with you when you talk to him?’

‘Dad, what’s going on?’ Marcus looked at each of his parents, then at the officer, his cheeks pinking up.

‘That would be fine,’ PC Wyndham said. Callum gave a grudging nod and led the way to the sitting room. Claire patted her son on the shoulder as he passed her, a terrified look on his face.