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‘No!’ shouted Marina, throwing off Franks’s hand. ‘My daughter, my daughter’s down there … ’ She wriggled free from him and ran forward. He followed.

All around was chaos. Franks and his team had identified themselves as police officers and the crowd were panicking, desperately clambering towards the exits. The fight was over. The fight to avoid arrest for taking part in an illegal activity had begun.

Marina pushed her way through with a new-found strength. She wished that strength had been in evidence a few minutes ago. Eventually the barn began to clear, and she could make her way through the crowd. She reached the spot where Josephina had been. Her brother and the gunman were being marched away by police officers, arms up behind their backs. The woman she had spoken to on the phone had gone too.

‘He’s my … my brother … ’ she called out, but no one heard her.

She looked round, scanned the faces in the barn. Checked behind the bales, on the seats. Nothing. She turned to Franks, panic rising.

‘Where’s my … where’s my daughter?’

He answered, but she didn’t hear him. She searched frantically. Pulled everything apart. But the woman was gone.

And so was Josephina.