The Stolen Child

by Carmel Harrington

Genres: Family Life; Sagas; Domestic Thrillers

Synopsis

A missing child. A shattered family. A mother's love that knows no bounds...

1984. On board The Carousel cruise ship in the middle of the Mediterranean, two-year-old Robert vanishes from his cabin while his family sleep soundly beside him. Despite the frantic efforts of his mother Kimberly and stepfather Jason, he is never found.

2024. Lily balances a busy career as a psychotherapist with her responsibilities as a wife, mother and mediator between her divorced parents. Her older brother Robert's disappearance has cast a dark shadow over Lily's family her whole life. But when a new client, Zach, tells Lily about his shocking childhood memories of an imaginary 'other mother', Lily's belief that Robert drowned all those years ago starts to crumble. And she, Kimberly and Jason will soon have to face up to the truth of what happened on that cruise ship.

Is Zach delusional? Or has someone known all along what happened to Robert?

PRAISE FOR CARMEL HARRINGTON'S NOVELS:

'Warm, uplifting & important...a very VERY special book' MARIAN KEYES

'Beautifully moving and uplifting' CECELIA AHERN

'Storytelling at its best' SHEILA O'FLANAGAN

'We defy you not to say, just one more chapter!' BELFAST TELEGRAPH

'Beautifully written, emotionally intelligent & moving in the extreme' DAILY MAIL

Release date: February 27, 2025

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 400

Sample

July 1983

Kimberly

The Carousel, Spanish Coast

Kimberly lay back on a blue plastic sun lounger, sighing as the warmth of the late afternoon sun washed over her. Her husband, Jason, stood in the shallow water of the kiddies’ pool of the Carousel, a cruise ship with the Blue Wave line. He was playing with their two children, Robert and Lily. She took in Jason’s toned and tanned physique. As a young girl, Kimberly and her best friend had dreamed of marrying stereotypical tall, dark and handsome men. They’d have two children each, a boy and a girl, and live happily ever after.

‘Two out of three, ain’t bad,’ Kimberly sang softly, tears filling her eyes again. She bit the inside of her cheek, and the unbidden emotion obeyed the command, staying hidden.

It was five days into their two-week family cruise around the Mediterranean. A delayed honeymoon, they’d called it. Kimberly had been pregnant with Lily when they’d got married last year. Between chronic morning sickness and taking care of her then eighteen-month-old son Robert, now Jason’s stepson, they’d decided to wait.

Today had been a sea day, a chance to relax by the pool and recharge their batteries, before they arrived in the Spanish port of Barcelona the following morning. Kimberly fidgeted on her sun lounger, keeping her attention on her family. She grabbed a scrunchie and pulled her blonde, shoulder-length hair into a ponytail. Her eyes darted to each child, back and forth. Lily was now six months old, wearing bright orange armbands and giggling as she tried to escape her father’s hold. With her light-brown hair pulled into two tiny bunches on top of her head, Lily was undoubtedly adorable. Quick to smile, their daughter was a big hit with the eight hundred passengers on board the Carousel.

Kimberly turned her attention to Robert, who was two and a half years old, and slight for his age. He’d progressed to a floating ring round his tummy, which had cute dolphins etched on it. His face was scrunched in determination as he tried to swim from one side of the pool to the other. He’d do it too, Kimberly knew. He kicked his legs furiously behind him, but in doing so water splashed over Lily’s face, and she squealed in protest.

‘Hey!’ Jason snapped to Robert, pulling Lily closer to him protectively and wiping her eyes gently with his hand. ‘Watch what you’re doing, buddy. Your little sister is only a baby.’

Kimberly pulled her Wayfarer mirror sunglasses off in irritation. She moved to the pool’s edge and swung her legs into the shallow water.

‘He’s playing. Please remember that he’s only a wee baby too,’ Kimberly hissed to Jason. She waded closer to Robert and then said to her little boy in a softer tone, ‘It’s okay, little lamb. Daddy didn’t mean to shout.’

Robert looked at his stepfather from under his dark eyelashes, his bottom lip trembling. ‘It was a abbident.’

Kimberly sighed as she pulled him in for a reassuring hug. ‘Of course it was. You didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘I don’t think I shouted,’ Jason said, looking from his wife to his stepson, confusion clouding his eyes.

‘People are watching; must you make a scene?’ Kimberly hissed, feeling the stare of an older couple seated close by, taking it all in. Her breath quickened, and despite the vast ocean around them she felt claustrophobic. ‘I’m going back to the cabin with the children.’

Kimberly scooped up both kids with ease, wrapping them in fluffy blue-and-white towels. Jason joined them, pulling a towel round his waist. He lifted Lily into his arms to dry her off.

Why couldn’t he have picked up Robert to let the boy know that he wasn’t cross with him, that the moment was already forgotten?

Her baby girl was oblivious to any worrying family dynamics and squealed again, but this time in delight, as her daddy tickled her.

‘Tickle me too, Daddy,’ Robert asked, raising his arms upwards.

Jason and Kimberly swapped children so Jason could tickle Robert, and peace was restored for the Murphy family.

When Kimberly had met Jason two years previously, the last thing on her mind was dating. Her only thought was taking care of Robert. But she hadn’t bargained on the love she would feel for her new beau, fast and all-enveloping. From the moment he’d knocked on the door of her flat in Dublin, she’d felt an instant attraction to him. And it wasn’t only a physical reaction to his good looks. It was a meeting of two like-minded souls, who both instantly knew that the other was to be an essential part of their future. Jason had proposed shortly after she found out she was expecting Lily. And here Kimberly was, twenty-eight years old, with that perfect family she’d always dreamed of having.

Looks are often deceiving, though.

‘Hey, Kimberly, no sad faces are allowed on holiday,’ Jason said, looking over Robert’s shoulder, a frown creasing his forehead.

‘Ignore me,’ Kimberly said, folding the towels into her large poolside bag. ‘I’m being overly sentimental, that’s all.’ She pointed to Robert, who was now snuggled in his stepfather’s arms. ‘It’s nice to see you two together like that, father and son. I’m sorry I snapped a minute ago. I know I can be a little overprotective.’

Jason’s frown disappeared instantly, and he leaned in to kiss his wife. ‘Forgiven! I can’t stay mad with someone as bonnie as you.’ Jason’s Irish accent changed to Scottish as he mimicked Kimberly’s soft lilt.

‘I couldn’t love him any more if he were my own; you know that, don’t you?’ Jason asked in a low voice as they began their short walk back to their family cabin.

‘Yes. I know that,’ Kimberly replied.

Jason’s face relaxed into an easy smile. ‘Don’t judge me, but I’m glad we have the kids’ club booked for later tonight. I’m looking forward to having a drink with my beautiful wife.’

Kimberly accepted a kiss from Jason as a tension headache began to thump in her temples. She pushed it aside, and within an hour all four of them were showered, bathed, dressed and ready for the evening buffet.

‘You’ve caught the sun – it suits you!’ Jason complimented Kimberly as they waited for the lift. ‘Doesn’t Mama look lovely tonight?’ he said to Robert, who nodded enthusiastically in agreement. ‘In fact, I think we all scrub up well.’

Kimberly took a moment to take their family in. There were striking, dressed in their holiday best, bright colours against sun-kissed skin. Robert and her, blonde and blue-eyed, Jason and Lily, dark with brown eyes.

They found a table at the Carousel buffet, taking turns choosing from the delicacies offered that evening. But as Kimberly spoon-fed Lily her mashed potatoes, she felt the tension headache that had niggled her all day tighten its claws into her.

‘You okay?’ Jason asked, a forkful of stroganoff held in midair. ‘You’ve gone pale.’

‘Headache,’ Kimberly admitted. She steeled herself for an argument, continuing, ‘I’m going to take a sleeping tablet and go to bed early, once the children are asleep. Knock it on its head.’

Jason’s eyes dropped, and his jaw clenched. ‘But the talent show is on tonight in the main theatre. We were going to go. A night for just the two of us.’

Kimberly picked up a napkin and wiped Lily’s face clean, then turned her attention to Robert, who was about to throw a piece of chicken onto the floor. ‘I know that was the plan. And I’m sorry to miss it. I need to sleep this headache off. But there’s no reason why you can’t go alone.’

‘I can’t do that,’ Jason answered warily.

‘Yes, you can. You’ve been looking forward to it. So go. Have a couple of beers. I’ll wake up a new woman, and tomorrow we can have a nice family day in Barcelona.’

Jason needed little encouragement. Kimberly knew she’d been snappy all day, and while her husband was a patient man he was ready for the escape and comfort a cold pint could offer. Jason offered to help her get the kids into bed, but Kimberly insisted he leave immediately. She needed time to herself, without his watchful eyes on her and the children.

If he looks back, I’ll call out and ask him to stay, Kimberly thought after he’d kissed them all goodbye. But he carried on purposefully and disappeared out of sight into the busy atrium of the ship without a backwards glance.

Back in their cabin, once Lily had drunk her bottle, and was drifting off to sleep in her crib, Kimberly turned her attention to Robert, who sat cross-legged on the floor watching TV. Cartoon Tom chased Jerry menacingly around the garden, and a shiver ran down Kimberly’s back as she picked up Robert’s empty night-time bottle of milk from the floor beside him.

‘I drank it all, Mama,’ her little boy said proudly.

‘You are such a good boy. Come here to me,’ Kimberly said, holding her hand out to him.

‘I sleepy, Mama,’ Robert replied, wiping his eyes with his hands. He clasped his beloved Peter Rabbit soft toy in his right hand.

Kimberly picked him up and gently placed him in his sofa bed. Then, climbing in beside him, she read him his favourite bedtime story, Goodnight Moon.

Even before Kimberly was halfway through, the quiet poetry had lulled Robert asleep in her arms. She lay beside him until her eyes became heavy too, the power of her sleeping tablet taking effect. Kimberly almost stayed there, her little boy wrapped up in her arms.

Safe, the two of them together.

The temptation to hold on to him and never let go was overwhelming. But then Lily stirred in her cot, and the sound brought Kimberly back from the brink of sleep. She kissed Robert one last time, breathing in his scent, then carefully placed Peter Rabbit under the crook of his arm.

‘I love you more than the moon,’ Kimberly whispered. Slowly, she made her way back to her double bed, her legs heavy and uncooperative, falling on to the mattress with one last, ‘Goodnight, moon. Goodnight, Lily. Goodnight, Robert . . .’

Her eyes closed, and all was dark.

Lily’s cries woke Kimberly. She sat up, groggily looking around the small cabin in surprise. Her head thumped as if she’d been partying late into the night and she could smell stale beer. It took her a moment to remember that they were on a cruise ship, not at home in Dublin.

‘What time is it?’ Jason mumbled from beneath the bedclothes.

Kimberly looked down at her watch and answered, ‘Seven.’

She pulled Lily from her cot and held her close, instantly soothing her cries. The sound of a vehicle rumbling nearby drifted up to their cabin from outside.

‘We must be docked in Barcelona,’ Jason said, stretching his arms above his head. ‘God, I feel rough! I drank way too much last night.’ He made his way towards Robert’s sofa bed. ‘Wake up, sleepy head. Come on, buddy, let’s go out to the balcony and take a look at Barcelona.’

Jason pulled back the white duvet to reveal an empty bed.

‘He must be in the bathroom,’ Jason said. He opened the en suite door, his expectant smile turning to a frown. ‘Robert’s not in here either.’ Jason’s voice rose as he called out, ‘Buddy, where are you hiding?’

With Lily in her arms, Kimberly joined Jason, and they both searched for their son in the small cabin. Kimberly moved slowly, her legs immobilised with terror. The cabin was only one hundred and forty square feet, so the search was over as quickly as it began.

‘He’s not here. He’s gone . . .’ Jason said, his face white, sweat glistening on his forehead. He ran to the cabin door and opened it, running out into the hallway and calling out their son’s name desperately.

Kimberly clutched her chest, dread twisting her gut and heart.

Then she began to scream.

July 1983

Kimberly

The Carousel, Port of Barcelona, Spain

Two hours had raced by since the chilling realisation that Robert was not in their cabin. As soon as Jason had raised the alarm, everything happened at double speed. Captain Phillipe swiftly imposed an emergency lockdown on the Carousel, halting all pre-arranged shore visits to Barcelona. The crew began scouring every inch of the ship in a desperate search for the missing boy.

It felt as if they were actors in a play, being directed to move from one room to the next as the captain and his staff took charge. Kimberly, Jason, and Lily were eventually shepherded to one of the small bars, which had been cordoned off to become the search headquarters. Kind staff, who had become familiar faces during the voyage so far, placed tea and water on the table before them, along with boxes of tissues.

‘La Policía has arrived,’ Captain Phillipe announced, ushering in a plain-clothes officer. Slight, the man had jet-black hair, olive skin, and piercing green eyes. He was young, no more than thirty. He stubbed a cigarette into an ashtray on a nearby table, and then approached the Murphys.

Kimberly clasped Jason’s hand. It was clammy and damp, like her own, but they clutched to each other all the same. She watched the officer’s face, desperately trying to decipher his thoughts. But his expression remained inscrutable, offering no clue to the news he carried. A surge of bile threatened to rise in Kimberly’s throat, and she quickly covered her mouth as her anxiety mounted.

‘Are you going to be sick?’ Jason asked. Kimberly waved aside his concern and managed to control her heaving stomach. She felt the police officer’s eyes on them both, looking them up and down as he weighed them up.

‘Hello, Mr and Mrs Murphy. My name is Inspector Hugo Ortega. I’m with the Guardia Civil, in the Spanish police. And I’m here to help you find your son.’ He reached over to shake their hands in turn.

His English was almost perfect, his handshake firm. Kimberly could smell the faint odour of nicotine and cologne lingering in the air between them. But the banality of shaking hands and uttering pleasantries with the Spanish police while her little boy was missing from her arms made her body tremble and rage. Kimberly fought back another scream.

‘I am so sorry that you are dealing with this upset,’ Inspector Ortega continued.

‘Our son is missing. That’s hardly an upset!’ Jason spluttered, two dots of red appearing on his cheeks.

Inspector Ortega raised a hand in apology. ‘Of course. My English does not always translate well. I assure you that I am treating this with utmost urgency. Please, go through everything, from the last time you saw Robert to this morning when you realised he was missing from your cabin.’

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pencil. He licked the tip of the lead, then looked at them both expectantly.

Jason cleared his throat and said, ‘After our evening meal, I went for a drink. It was after seven o’clock. My wife went back to our cabin with the children.’ His voice caught. ‘I kissed them all goodbye, the kids and Kimberly, outside the lift in the main atrium.’ Jason breathed in deeply and gathered himself to continue. ‘I got back to the cabin at midnight. Everyone was asleep when I arrived.’

Lily made a sound as she dreamed. They all glanced over to the double red buggy, one side now poignantly empty, the other with a sleeping Lily, who was thankfully unaware of the drama unfolding around her. Kimberly reached over and pulled the buggy closer to her, placing a hand protectively on the handlebar.

‘I can see how hard this is for you.’ Inspector Ortega said gently to Kimberly, his eyes still looking at Lily. ‘She’s a beautiful little girl.’ He cleared his throat, then continued. ‘You didn’t join your husband for a drink? Perhaps leave the children unattended?’

‘No!’ Kimberly exclaimed, shaking her head in shock at the suggestion. ‘I would never leave the children alone. As it happens, we had booked a spot in the children’s club . . .’ She paused to gather herself, then explained, ‘But we didn’t need to use that service. I had a headache brewing all day. So I insisted that Jason go for a drink without me. Lily fell asleep a little after eight o’clock, and then I read Robert his bedtime story. Goodnight Moon. It’s his favourite.’ Kimberly’s voice cracked, and she felt tears dampen her cheeks.

Jason handed her a tissue and tightened his grip on her spare hand.

‘I have a little girl who loves story-time too,’ Inspector Ortega replied gently. ‘Did you notice anything amiss as you put the children to bed? Anything out of the ordinary?’

Kimberly thought for a moment, then shook her head sadly. ‘No. Robert fell asleep in my arms, and I almost dozed off on his little sofa bed with him. But then Lily stirred, and I made my way to our double. Her cot is beside ours, on my side. That way, I can reach her, if she wakes at night.’

Kimberly lightly touched her daughter’s cheek. Thank goodness she was too young to understand that her big brother was missing. And then Robert’s face entered her mind, and she knew that, wherever he was, he must be crying and calling out for her, his mama. A sharp pain edged its way beneath her rib cage. She couldn’t bear it.

‘And what time did you go to sleep?’ Inspector Ortega asked Kimberly, and she knew that she had to find the strength to bear this.

‘It was almost nine. I remember looking at the bedside clock before I closed my eyes.’

‘And were you asleep when your husband returned to the cabin?’

Kimberly bit her lip, and tears filled her eyes. She had cried so much since she’d woken this morning that she should have no tears left. ‘I didn’t hear Jason return. I took a sleeping tablet. I get these headaches. My doctor prescribed them.’ Kimberly’s hands began to tremble, and she covered her face as she wept. ‘You think it’s my fault . . . if I’d been awake . . .’

Kimberly couldn’t finish the sentence. Jason pulled her into his arms, denying it was true, but her guilt made her push him away.

Then Kimberly looked around the room, listening acutely. It was the strangest thing, but she was sure she could hear Robert crying out for her.

‘Can you hear that? It sounds like Robert’s cries.’ She looked from Jason to Captain Phillipe, then to Inspector Ortega. They quietened and listened, then shook their heads, sympathy etched on each face.

‘Nobody is blaming you, Mrs Murphy,’ Inspector Ortega said softly. ‘We are simply trying to work out the chain of events to narrow down what happened.’ He turned to Jason. ‘When you returned to the cabin, was Robert in his bed?’

Jason’s jaw tightened, then he replied, ‘Yes.’

But his voice didn’t sound sure. Inspector Ortega’s eyes travelled to Jason’s hand, which was twitching on his knee.

‘I’m sure my husband tucked him in when he returned to the cabin. He sometimes drops his favourite toy – Peter Rabbit – we always put it in his arms, so if he wakes up he’s not distressed,’ Kimberly said. She looked at her husband, nodding encouragingly for him to confirm this. But his face coloured and he shook his head.

‘I went straight to bed. I’d had more to drink than I normally would and felt a bit worse for wear. I didn’t go over to either of the children’s beds. Not last night.’ His eyes pleaded with Kimberly to forgive him.

But she looked away, unable to offer him any solace. Her only thought was for her beloved little boy.

‘Robert might have been gone from the cabin before you returned, no?’ Inspector Ortega asked, looking from one to the other.

‘He can’t have been gone since then,’ Jason replied, paling at the thought. ‘That would be hours ago.’ His eyes widened and darted from the sleeping Lily to the bar entrance. ‘Why isn’t there any news on the search? Somebody must have seen something. Robert can’t have disappeared off the face of the earth!’

Captain Philippe stood up, saying, ‘I shall gather an update on the search.’ Then, with a slight bow, he walked away.

‘Would Robert leave the cabin on his own?’ Inspector Ortega asked.

Kimberly and Jason looked at each other and shook their heads simultaneously.

‘If he woke up, perhaps he decided to explore outside alone, no? Boys are adventurous,’ Inspector Ortega insisted, twisting his pencil round his fingers one by one.

‘He’s only two and a half years old,’ Kimberly whispered, wringing her hands in her lap until Jason reached over to still them beneath his own.

‘If he woke up, he’d go straight to our bed. He’s a mama’s boy. Most nights, he ends up in our bed anyhow,’ Jason insisted as Kimberly nodded in agreement.

Inspector Ortega raised an eyebrow, scribbling a note in his notebook. ‘And how did that make you feel, Mr Murphy? I’m sure it was irritating to have a small child jump into your bed, between you and your wife.’

Jason looked at him quickly, his face flushing at the veiled insinuation. ‘On the contrary. I love having cuddles with our children.’

Kimberly reached over and squeezed her husband’s hand. ‘Jason bought a king-size bed for our bedroom at home, so there is space for everyone when the children climb in with us.’

Inspector Ortega acknowledged this with a slight incline of his head, then looked down to his notebook.

‘I’ve been to see your cabin. And it struck me how heavy the door was. Could a two-year-old open the door to the cabin himself?’ He made a face as he shrugged.

‘No! Robert can’t even reach the handle!’ Kimberly said, her voice raising with every word.

‘I suppose he could if he used a chair,’ Jason mused.

Kimberly looked at him open-mouthed. ‘As if Robert would ever do that.’

‘You didn’t let me finish. I was about to say that it doesn’t make sense that he would, though,’ Jason said, his voice now thin and brittle.

Inspector Ortega gazed at Jason with a perplexed expression on his face, then jotted a few more notes onto his notepad. In a calm tone, he asked, ‘Did you remember to close the cabin door after returning, Jason?’

The question seemed routine, but to Kimberly it felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck her. A fresh wave of terror surged through her veins as she waited for Jason’s response.

‘Yes. I think so. I’m sure I did,’ Jason replied hesitantly, but his lack of confidence was palpable.

Then Captain Phillipe strode into the room and gestured to Inspector Ortega, who joined the captain for a hushed conversation.

Kimberly felt her heart pound against her chest as her stomach twisted into new knots. She strained her neck to get a better view of what was happening, and that’s when she saw it.

In Captain Phillipe’s hand was a soggy stuffed toy – it was Robert’s Peter Rabbit.

July 2023

Lily

Phibsborough, Dublin

Lily glanced at her father’s house, which looked calm from the outside. But she also knew that this didn’t necessarily mean that all was peaceful inside. Spotting a space, she brought her car to a halt, switching her indicators on and mentally high-fived herself as she managed to parallel park in one go. As she got out of the car, Michael rang.

‘Hi, love. I’m visiting Dad this afternoon, remember? You’re picking Ben up from crèche, aren’t you?’ Lily clicked the lock on her key fob and walked back up the street.

‘I remember. I called to wish you luck – that’s all. I know Jason can be . . . difficult, especially this time of year, with the anniversary looming,’ Michael replied.

It was like her husband to be so thoughtful and, not for the first time, Lily thanked the stars that she’d been lucky enough to marry such a good man. ‘Thank you. I won’t be long. I’ll be home for dinner. Bye.’

It took three hard raps of the brass door knocker before she heard footsteps approaching. Her dad had lived in this two-bedroom, mid-terraced redbrick house since his separation from her mother nearly forty years ago. They were first in line to get a divorce in 1998, once it became legal in Ireland. She remembered him saying that the house would be a doer-upper as it needed a lot of modernising. But, of course, that never happened. It remained trapped in a 1980s time-warp, which was apt, as that’s where her father was too.

The door opened, and Lily’s father looked around her, his eyes darting up and down the street, checking for goodness knows what. Only when satisfied that all was clear did he turn to his daughter and say warmly, ‘Hello, Lily. You look well.’

Lily’s heart immediately swelled at the love in her father’s voice, then fell again when she took in his appearance. His once-dark hair was now steel grey, thinning at the top, and he needed a shave. Her eyes ran over his joggers and T-shirt combo, which hung too loose on his lean frame. She moved in for a quick hug and breathed in his typical aroma of caffeine and cigarettes.

‘Time for a coffee?’ her dad asked as he shuffled along the hallway to the kitchen. His back was rounded, stooping too early for his age. He was sixty-eight years old, the same age as her mother. But, unlike her mum, who still looked ten years younger than she was, the lines and wrinkles on his face were a roadmap to the hard life he’d been dealt. Lily felt another rush of emotion for him – this time, sympathy.

‘Coffee would be lovely, Dad. Black, but with one sugar. I need the boost,’ Lily replied. She looked around the open-plan living space for a spot to sit. Every surface was covered in boxes of paperwork, which was the norm in this house. She peered into the nearest box, which was full of flyers.

‘That’s a kid from Leeds. Bobby. Only eight years old. Disappeared from outside his home twenty years ago. His family are convinced he’s in Ireland. Family abduction. It’s thought that his father might have brought him here. I’ve been distributing the flyers around the city,’ Jason said in a rush.

‘Hmmm . . .’ Lily murmured, pushing the box to one side. She didn’t have it in her to hear one more heartbreaking tale of a lost child. While her father had made it his life’s work to support StolenChild, an international missing children’s network, Lily longed for one day with her dad where he focused on her – the child who had never left.

‘I’ve had a call from Mary Wilson.’ When her dad looked blankly at her, Lily added, ‘Your neighbour.’

As he stirred sugar into Lily’s coffee, he looked over, an eyebrow raised in question.

‘Mary said you’ve been playing music late again.’

‘Ah, she’s always got to have something to moan about.’

‘Perhaps. But, to be fair, she did say that it was four in the morning.’

Her father was an insomniac. He’d call it a win if he got three hours a night, but he had to be reminded often that the rest of the world didn’t share his schedule.

‘The music helps me think. You know that. I’ve been working on a new article for StolenChild about your brother.’

This was of no surprise to Lily. She ignored that too, and instead reminded her dad she’d bought him AirPods the previous year. ‘You need to wear them. That way, I don’t get phone calls to my office. Please.’

Her dad handed her a chipped blue-and-white mug filled with steaming coffee. ‘Hungry? I’ve got a packet of Jaffa cakes here somewhere. And I’ll try to remember about the music. Promise.’

‘Thank you. I’ll skip the biscuits – I’ll get dinner with Michael and Ben when I get home.’

Lily waited to see if her dad would ask about his grandson, but she should have known better. He was already rifling through a towering pile of paperwork on the kitchen table, his mind back to StolenChild.

‘Dad, Mum said to remind you that you need to call in to the office to sign paperwork.’

He paused his search, a small smile appearing at the mention of his ex-wife. ‘I meant to do that last week, but I got sidetracked. I’ll go in tomorrow. Take her for lunch. It’s a difficult time for Kimberly, what with the anniversary coming up.’

If Lily lived to be a hundred, she would never understand the dynamics of her parents’ relationship. And, with her years of experience as a psychotherapist, she had lost hours trying to work out what made them tick. They could be loving and warm towards each other, and within moments be at each other’s throat. But, despite their divorce, they’d managed to run their letting agency together for over forty years. Her father took a back seat, as he became more and more obsessed with finding Robert. And it had thrived under her mother’s leadership, who proved herself to be a shrewd businesswoman.

Her dad continued looking through folders on the table, muttering under his breath. Lily reached over and touched his arm.

‘Are you okay, Dad? You look a little . . . wired.’

‘I’ve got something to show you,’ he replied, grinning triumphantly as he found what he was looking for. ‘Take a look at this!’

Lily took the A4 paper sheet he proffered, which had two photographs printed on it, side by side. On the left was her brother Robert, aged two and a half. Blond curls, steel-blue eyes that looked almost grey, rosy cheeks – the quintessential cute baby. She knew every inch of this face off by heart – they all did. It was all they had of him. The photo was taken on the first night of their cruise. In his little hand, clutched lovingly, was his stuffed toy, Peter Rabbit.

On the right-hand side of the A4 paper was a photograph of a stranger. He had mousy brown hair cut short, blue eyes and was clean shaven. Fine lines hovered around his mouth, eyes and forehead.

‘It’s the latest age-progression photograph,’ her dad said triumphantly, his eye