Lucy Greenwell

Janet's no longer in touch with her birth mother, or most of her siblings.

She has just one meaningful relationship.

It's with her brother, Dean.

Jess listens to this, and I wonder if it resonates.

She has Kim, her half-sister, on her father's side.

One person out of all of it.

As a roadmap, like meet once, conversation and then go separate ways.

This story starts and finishes with Jennifer.

And over time, the image I have of her has changed.

When I first realised who she was, the nanny from my childhood, the woman who'd pulled this off and fooled everyone, I felt shock and then sympathy.

She must have been through hell.

When I found out about the second baby, I filled in the gaps myself.

I imagined someone permanently weakened by it all, worn down, shuffling through a quiet, damaged life.

But that's not what Jennifer's life looks like, from the outside at least.

Her internal life, whether there's regret or shame, whether she thinks about Jess, we can't know.

Those who are close to her, they say if she does feel these things, it's not obvious.

Despite repeated efforts to talk to her, she doesn't want to take part.

The cold case officers, who turned up on Jess's doorstep in the autumn, get back in touch with her a few weeks later.

There's no match with her DNA.

The exhumed baby and Jennifer aren't connected.