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Lauren Gregson wore the look of a lost soul. Robyn had seen it before – the thousand-yard stare usually associated with soldiers but applicable to any victim of trauma. Lauren didn’t appear to recognise Robyn when she opened the door, and beckoned her in without a word.

The kitchen was in disarray: paperwork littered the kitchen tops along with the contents of kitchen drawers. An orange ceramic dish covered in cling film stood on the table, its contents untouched. Lauren slipped onto a stool and lifted a half-empty glass of wine to her lips, downing it in one.

‘Want one?’ she asked.

Robyn shook her head. ‘No thanks. Driving.’

‘Fair enough.’ Lauren picked up the bottle and refilled her glass. ‘I couldn’t face any more today. I’ve been trying to get affairs in order. I have to have all sorts of paperwork to register Henry’s death. I was given loads of leaflets to supposedly help me through this process but all they’ve done is make me feel like crap. Why do you have to go through so much aggro when somebody dies? Isn’t it bad enough losing them without all this as well? I have to get a death certificate before I can do anything. That could be ages, and all the time, I can’t let go of him. He’s here but not here, if you know what I mean.’

Robyn understood exactly what she meant. It had been the same for her when Davies had been killed, except Peter Cross had told her not to concern herself. He’d dealt with all of the paperwork and organised the funeral. At the time Robyn had been glad to leave it to someone else but now she questioned Peter’s motives. Had he really organised a funeral or had it all been a sham?

‘I understand, Lauren. I’ve lost people I love too and this is such a difficult period. You are getting support, aren’t you? Have you got friends or relatives to help you?’

Lauren gulped some wine and nodded.

‘I hope you don’t mind me troubling you again?’ Robyn asked, wondering if Lauren was sober enough to answer her questions.

‘No trouble. Not like I’ve got anything else to do. I didn’t fancy any company. People keep tipping up to say how sorry they are to hear about Henry. Even brought me food in case I can’t manage to cook,’ she said, nodding at the dish on the table. ‘I can’t take any more at the moment. I want to pretend it isn’t happening. Their long faces and quiet voices and looks of pity just remind me it’s all real.’

‘It’s about the clinic at Tamworth.’

Lauren’s face took on a faraway look.

‘Did either you or Henry have any contact with a nurse called Tessa Hall during your visits?’

‘There were a few nurses at the clinic. I was seen by at least three different ones. None of them was called Tessa. I don’t know about Henry. I don’t know which nurse dealt with him. His appointment was with a consultant called Galloway. He didn’t mention the nurses.’

‘You didn’t accompany him?’

‘No. I was at work that day. I’d already taken time off on a few occasions for my own appointments. Besides, he said he’d prefer to go alone.’

Robyn passed across a photograph of Tessa Hall downloaded from the clinic website. ‘Do you recognise her at all?’

Lauren squinted at the picture. ‘I might have seen her there. I can’t be certain. I was so nervous.’

Robyn left the photograph on the table but Lauren had lost interest in it. She took another sip of her wine. Robyn waited for Lauren to ask why she’d been asked about Tessa, but she didn’t.

‘I don’t know what I’ll do,’ said Lauren after a few minutes. ‘Mum and Dad are coming to help me sort out everything. They liked Henry. He was the first boyfriend they really took to. He and Dad would talk for ages about the bloody football. Ignored both Mum and me. Used to drive me crazy. Mum just laughed about it and said I was lucky to have found Henry, especially after Nick. Nick dumped me for no good reason and broke my heart. Henry mended it.’ Her eyes slid across to an unopened parcel on the kitchen top. ‘I don’t think I could go through all that again. I can’t face more heartbreak. I wish I’d had something to remind me of our love – a baby. As it is, I have nothing.’

Robyn tried one last time. ‘You really can’t remember Tessa Hall?’

Lauren shook her head. ‘There are so many nurses and doctors at that place.’

‘Can I ask you about Liam? Did he know the truth about Henry’s mother and sister?’

‘I doubt it. It’s not the sort of thing you shout about. Henry’s sister is a screwed-up junkie, and his mother’s so ill she doesn’t recognise her own son. Henry rarely spoke to me about them, let alone anyone else.’

‘Liam must have talked about family at some stage. He and Henry were good friends.’

Lauren shrugged. ‘Probably made up something, or changed the subject. He was good at that.’

‘What do you mean, Lauren?’

Lauren stared at her wine glass. ‘He’d change the subject if he didn’t want to talk about something. It was his way of getting out of an argument or a sticky situation. I used to get cross with him sometimes about that. It doesn’t seem important now.’

‘You’re friends with Liam’s girlfriend, Ella – did you not mention Henry’s sister or mother in conversation?’

‘Why would I?’ Lauren looked blankly at her wine glass. ‘Ella’s hard work – I mean, she isn’t the sort of person you’d want to share a bottle of wine with and have a girlie night. I like her, but she only ever wants to talk about Astra, which is fine. I love Astra. I’d really love a little girl just like her. But Ella’s intense. She hangs on Liam’s every word and doesn’t get involved in conversations. I find it hard to open up to her. It’ll be harder still now Henry isn’t here.’

Robyn looked at her watch. She ought to get home. Lauren looked up and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.

‘I’ll be in touch again soon. When are your parents coming?’ Robyn stood to leave.

‘Sometime this evening. I told them I was okay and not to fuss but Mum insisted. I wanted some time to be alone. I wanted to feel his presence here and be with him for a while longer. Mum wouldn’t have that. Said it was too maudlin and I needed company. I don’t think I can face her. She can be so overbearing sometimes. Makes me feel like I’m only fifteen.’

‘She means well. She’ll be worried about you. And she’ll be upset about Henry too. You’re her daughter. Of course she wants to look after you.’

Lauren nodded dumbly. Robyn moved towards the door, glancing at the parcel as she left. The sender’s address was clearly printed. Lauren had received a parcel from Mothercare, a store specialising in baby items. Robyn hastened into the bitter cold, wondering how fixated Lauren was on having a child.