Claire arrived back at the farm to find Maggie sitting at the kitchen table with her head resting on folded arms. Shona was doing her best to comfort her while a young officer that Claire didn’t recognise sat beside her.

‘Hi,’ she said to the officer, dropping her bag and keys onto a chair. ‘I’m Claire, Maggie’s friend.’ She stood behind Maggie, about to put her hands on her shoulders. But she stopped, Callum’s words flaring through her mind.

‘PC Jenny Watts,’ said the young woman, rising a little and offering her hand to shake. Claire reckoned she didn’t look much older than Rain. ‘I’ve been assigned as Maggie’s family liaison officer. I’m here to keep you updated, try to answer any questions, that kind of thing.’

Maggie blew her nose as Claire sat down beside her. ‘Have there been any developments?’

‘Not as yet,’ PC Watts said. ‘But we’re doing everything we can.’

‘OK,’ was all Claire managed to say, almost inaudibly. Her mind burned with questions for both the officer and Maggie, but silence won over in case she said the wrong thing.

‘Normally, I’d ask to take a look in Rain’s bedroom,’ PC Watts said. ‘Or maybe we’d go through some of her stuff together, just in case it helped jog a thought about where she might be. But, of course, it’s hard with you being away from home…’ She trailed off, glancing over to the door.

‘We’ll find her,’ Patrick said, joining them. ‘We don’t lose hope in this family.’ His hands were on his hips as he stood at the window, gazing out.

‘Dad,’ Claire said. ‘How are you feeling?’ She wished she could somehow fix him in the present. ‘Let me make you a cup of tea.’ She hated how patronising she sounded.

‘Not too bad, love,’ he said. ‘But I’ll make the tea. You look after…’ He stopped and stared at Maggie, squinting, licking his lips as if he could taste what his mind was searching for. ‘You look after Maggie there.’

‘Thanks, Dad,’ Claire replied, watching as he opened half a dozen kitchen cupboards before realising that the mugs were hanging on hooks on the dresser, as they had done forever.

‘I just went up to my house,’ she told Maggie, sitting opposite. She stared at the empty table between them, trying not to think about what Callum had told her. ‘I had to let a couple of officers inside. They wanted a quick look around, so I left them to it. They’re coming down here after, said they’ll be doing house-to-house enquiries in the village as well as foot searches.’

Claire wasn’t sure why a search of her home was necessary, but she wasn’t about to question their motives. She didn’t like the thought that someone might have been in there, maybe even taken Rain against her will if she’d gone back up there while everyone else was still at the beach. Claire doubted there would be such a police presence here if it hadn’t been for what had gone before.

‘Mags, did you manage to speak to, you know… Peter?’ Claire asked quietly. PC Watts was listening to everything.

Maggie looked up. She’d stopped crying, as if there were simply no more tears left. She cupped a glass, the water inside quivering from her shaking hands. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I left a message. I don’t suppose he’ll call back.’

‘But she’s his daughter.’ Claire had waited until PC Watts had gone to the toilet, and even then she whispered, leaning across the table.

‘It’s not that simple, Claire.’

‘Mags, you don’t think that Peter came and took Rain, do you?’

‘God, no,’ Maggie replied with certainty. ‘He wouldn’t want her.’

‘If this goes on much longer, I think the police will want to contact him anyway.’

‘You really think so?’ Maggie’s face was tight with worry, as if the long-lasting consequences of the affair had only just occurred to her. For a fleeting moment, Claire wondered if what Callum said was true, that values meant nothing to her.

‘I’d be prepared, that’s all,’ she said, nodding and wondering just how prepared Peter’s wife was to have her life blown apart. ‘Look, Mags, if Rain doesn’t turn up soon, the police will be all over everything.’ Claire glanced at the officer as she came back into the room.

But Maggie’s attention was suddenly focused on the back door. She stood up, kicking out the chair behind her and gripping the table. ‘Is there news?’

‘Is there somewhere private we can talk?’ PC Wyndham said, coming straight in after knocking on the open door. Her face was blank, giving nothing away.

‘Please, use the snug again,’ Claire said, wishing she could take back all the thoughts she’d just had. As Maggie left the room, she noticed Patrick’s expression. How many times had he and her mum greeted various officers and detectives during the weeks and months after Lenni’s disappearance? Too many to count, but each time they’d been buoyed up by the possibility of good news only to have their hopes dashed.

‘Christ, I hope she’s not come to tell her…’ Claire brought her hand to her mouth.

‘They do that job in pairs, love,’ Patrick replied.

Claire forced the thought from her mind and went around the kitchen, gathering all the mugs and glasses that had been used over the morning. She needed to keep busy. She put them into the big Belfast sink, running a bowl of hot soapy water, and set to washing up. She wondered how many hours her mother had stood at the same sink, washing, rinsing and drying countless plates, cutlery, pots and pans. Shona had been a worker all her life and Claire couldn’t think of a time when her mother had ever been idle.

Between them, her parents had saved Trevellin from bankruptcy, their dedication and hard work re-establishing the dairy herd within a couple of years. She recalled how her dad would leave the house before they even got up for school and come back home mid-evening reeking of his beloved cows and the scent of their warm, creamy milk.

‘Claire…’ Her father’s deep voice resonated through the kitchen. She turned, pulling off her rubber gloves in time to see PC Wyndham leaving by the back door. Maggie was standing perfectly still, hands clasped under her chin, looking as if she was the only person left in the entire world.

‘What is it, Maggie? Is there news?’ Claire went up to her, but Maggie just stood, refusing to move, apart from a small tremor that ran the length of her body.