She gave him a worried glance, climbed out of the car and heard him reversing down the road. She waited a moment then began to walk up to the hall.

James and Annabel swooped on her as soon as they saw her. Annabel was beside herself, declaring that the party was definitely over and they were heading back.

‘Don’t you EVER do that to me again,’ she shouted at Grace. ‘Where the hell have you been?’

‘I needed some time to myself,’ Grace told them, grateful that the music from inside was drowning out their remonstrations, and reluctant to tell them that she had been with Ben, knowing they were likely to read it all wrong.

They walked to the car. Once they were inside, Annabel refused to speak to Grace for the rest of the journey. Grace looked to James for support, but he stared stonily ahead as he drove, and made no move to dispel the fraught atmosphere.

Grace glanced out of the window, exhaustion creeping over her. The roads heading home were disturbingly hushed. The headlights’ full beam did their best to penetrate the black night, but to little effect.

It was hard to believe it was Christmas Day. She had a suspicion that when they got up again in a few hours, it would feel more like going through the motions than a true celebration. She remembered Ben, standing outside the hall tonight, so close and yet so far removed from the rest of his family. What on earth had happened to make it that way?

She was tempted to share her discoveries – it might thaw the frostiness in the car – but stopped herself, feeling she could be betraying Ben’s confidence. He would tell them about it himself if he wanted to.

‘People were saying we’re in for a heavy snowfall tomorrow,’ James said beside her, breaking her train of thought.

‘Good job you stocked up today then,’ Grace responded, after which they said nothing further.

Grace was relieved when the Roseby village sign flashed by them. As they pulled up outside the cottage, she remembered Millie with a guilt-laden jolt. How could she have left her alone out here? What if something had gone wrong and Millie had needed her? She hurried inside and found Emma lazing sleepily on the sofa, the television burbling in the background. ‘Not a peep,’ she reassured Grace. ‘I hope you had a good time.’

Grace said her thanks, and saw Emma out. Then she crept in to Millie’s room, peeked briefly at her daughter’s peaceful, sleeping face, whispered, ‘Happy Christmas, little one,’ and took herself off to bed.

When Grace woke up, she was pleased to discover that it had been a rare night without dreams. Her head felt groggy, however, and a dull ache began as she remembered what Liza had told her about Adam. She went in to see Millie, and found her standing holding the bars of the cot, cuddling Mr Pink while eying her full stocking in the corner with a mixture of wonder and apprehension.

Grace gave Millie a few presents to open. They had only got as far as unwrapping a board book and a jigsaw puzzle when the child began to lose interest, and Grace smiled as Millie grabbed Mr Pink, threw him ahead of her and crawled towards the door. As they were going downstairs, Annabel appeared and headed towards the bathroom. ‘Merry Christmas,’ Grace said, but Annabel just grunted.

James was already up and drinking coffee at the kitchen table.

‘I’m sorry if I scared you last night,’ Grace began as soon as she saw him.

‘Never mind. As long as you’re all right?’

‘I am … though I don’t know if Annabel will be talking to me today.’

‘Now don’t be too hard on Annabel,’ James said. ‘Remember, Adam went missing around here. So when you go MIA, she worries – she’s bound to.’

Grace felt chastened. James looked like he wanted to add something more, but then Annabel appeared.

‘Merry Christmas!’ she greeted them, hugging them all before going across to the kettle. ‘When are we opening presents?’

‘As soon as possible, I think,’ Grace replied, relieved that she appeared to have been forgiven. She jiggled Millie on her hip, then poked her tongue out to encourage her daughter to laugh.

‘Come on then, little lady.’ Annabel plucked her niece from Grace’s arms. ‘Let’s go and see what we can find under the tree.’

They spent the next couple of hours opening presents. Annabel’s selections were always interesting. Crème de la Mer for Grace (‘It’s so overpriced, but I’m saving your skin from cracking up in these Arctic temperatures’), while James received Ted Baker boxer shorts, which he looked quite pleased with until he saw that the labels said ‘extra-large’. ‘I thought you’d take it as a compliment,’ Annabel laughed when he complained. Grace had bought Annabel some Smythson business accessories and a pair of pyjamas, but had to apologise to James as he opened his gift. ‘In my defence, I didn’t know you were coming.’

In haste, she had managed to locate an empty photo frame and make a collage to go in it, by scanning old pictures onto the computer.

James beamed at her after he opened it. ‘A decade of Grace, James and Annabel! Don’t worry, it’s perfect.’

Despite her considerable pile of presents, Millie wasn’t much interested in the unwrapping process. James had given her Mr Men stories, and tried in vain to get her to sit with him while he read, but Millie’s face grew increasingly wary and she kept crawling close to her mother. In the end he gave up, and began to help Annabel prepare the dinner, while Grace took the new toys out of their boxes. By the time Millie went down for her nap there was nothing much left to do. James switched the television on, and he and Annabel settled themselves in front of it. Grace tried to join them, but she couldn’t concentrate, thinking about Liza’s and Ben’s revelations the previous night.

She sat there for a while feeling fidgety, then got up. ‘I might go for a quick walk.’

‘You and your walks,’ Annabel said absently, her eyes fixed on the television. ‘Just don’t disappear for hours this time.’

‘Want me to come?’ James asked, and looked half relieved and half disappointed when Grace replied, ‘No, it’s fine – I won’t be long. Just need a bit of fresh air. Millie shouldn’t be up for at least another hour or so, but listen out for her, will you?’

She went into the hallway, pulled on her wellies, collected her jacket, gloves and hat, and headed out. The sky was a strange colour – almost yellow – and she sensed that the fresh snowfall they’d been warned about wasn’t far away. She inhaled deeply, smelling the frosty grass and wet tarmac, feeling the cold air surging down her throat.

At the top of the hill, she turned off the road and made her way along a path of mud and flattened grass, skirting around the edge of dry stone walls. When she reached the familiar large flat stones, she sat there for a while, taking in the view. She looked across towards Lover’s Leap, remembering Annabel describing it as the most haunted place on the moors. Then her mind returned again to the previous night – and Liza’s urgent voice as she had confessed to Grace in the shadows of the lake.

She pictured Adam at a library computer, trying to trace his father, and knew she couldn’t sit on this information. Grace was sceptical about rousing the police’s interest with such a scant new lead, but they needed to know. Liza’s name didn’t have to come up unless they thought it was significant.

Grace jumped up from the stone slab as an idea came to her. What was stopping her from finding Adam’s father herself? She could go to the library, try to retrace Adam’s footsteps, and see what he might have uncovered. At least then she would have an idea of what he might have been going to tell her, the thing he’d referred to in his mysterious note.

She felt reinvigorated by this new sense of purpose, looking towards the sky and taking a few deep breaths. As she did so, the first specks of snow landed on her, sticking to her clothes and gloves. She kept her face upturned, flakes appearing out of the void above her in a soft white flurry. She spun around slowly, catching them on her tongue, feeling their frozen, gentle caress on her skin in the brief moment before they vanished.