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then waiting again. And then Howard’s car was speeding back up the lane towards the cottage. She ran to the front door and he rolled down his window.
    ‘Maggie,’ he said, his voice completely neutral. ‘You need to come and look at some CCTV footage. Cameras at Exeter picked up a child similar to Olivia at ten o’clock last night.’

Chapter Eight
    They took her to a different part of the police station this time. This room was busy, full of computers and people either working at their own stations or standing looking over their colleagues’ shoulders, all talking in low voices and sounding urgent. Were they all looking for Olivia? Maggie clutched her bag and forced herself to breathe calmly. This sudden new hope was even more difficult to cope with than the uncertainty; she could feel her heart thudding away in her chest. The fact that she was being active now helped, but every few minutes the reality of what was happening to her family would diminish any vestige of hope still inside her.
    Howard took her to a table and sat her in front of a blank screen. She could feel the eyes on her back, but whatever they were thinking, it would be impossible for them to think as badly of her as she did herself.
    ‘Have you phoned Colin?’ she asked, and Howard nodded.
    ‘Amanda was doing that when I left to get you.’
    He rolled a chair over beside her and began to manipulate the mouse. The screen in front of them lit up.
    ‘Okay. Now like I told you, this is far from a clear image. I’ve gone through all the photos Colin took here and I have no idea if this is Olivia. And Maggie... ’ He looked at her, and she felt how very much he wanted to find Livvy for them. ‘... You should try to stay calm.’
    She blinked at him, and he went on.
    ‘See if you notice any little detail that could identify this girl as Olivia - the way she walks, maybe, or holds her head. Look at the child’s posture, look at her body proportions, the length of her hair. Ignore the clothes. And look at the woman, too, you might have seen her somewhere.’
    He double-clicked and a grainy, black and white image appeared on the screen. Maggie could see a brick building with shop windows and doorways, and cars parked diagonally beside the pavement. Howard had told her it was the main train station at Exeter. A man with a black Labrador was disappearing out of the picture.
    ‘Here they come,’ said Howard, and Maggie leaned forward. Moving jerkily, a woman and a small girl came into view. The woman was holding the child’s right hand and they were hurrying, the little girl almost running to keep up with the woman’s longer strides. The child was wearing shorts and a baggy jumper, and her hair was long. Neither face was turned towards the camera. The woman was dressed in a mid-calf skirt and a lighter coloured cardigan. The two hurried along by the building and vanished through a doorway.
    Maggie looked at Howard in dismay. She’d thought she would know straightaway if this was Olivia, but she didn’t.
    ‘They’ve gone into the station,’ said Howard. ‘Unfortunately two of the cameras in there weren’t operating last night, and the others didn’t pick them up. We have people there making inquiries right now, and our CCTV expert is on his way in. He should be able to improve the picture, but I thought it was worth getting you here straightaway. Have another look, Maggie.’
    He rewound the sequence and they watched again. On the third run through Maggie still didn’t know. The expert arrived and took Howard’s place beside her. He blew up some still images of the child without, however, significantly improving the quality. Frustration filled Maggie as she gazed at the indistinct pictures on the screen. If only the child’s face was clearer. The hair fit. The size fit. There was nothing about the way this child was moving that was different to any other child trotting along beside an adult. But there was nothing special to say that it was