Lucy Greenwell

At the weekends, there were evenings spent in village pubs, the odd night out at a disco in town.

Nanny's Christmas dinner, there we are.

Catherine's showing me a photo from Christmas 1987, two months after the baby appeared.

What do you remember of that Christmas dinner?

Looking back, she finds it hard to square her friendship with Jennifer.

She was probably my closest friend at that time.

With the realisation that there was this whole other story going on, one that she knew nothing about.

They talked, of course, about the morning Jennifer found the baby.

But Catherine never properly questioned Jennifer's version of events.

The police did, though.

While the investigation was underway, we know officers continued to probe Jennifer for more details.

They were clearly unconvinced by her story.

And Catherine remembers this.

She recalls offering Jennifer advice.

And she didn't reply.

Jennifer doesn't take up Catherine's suggestion to have a medical examination and she lets it go.

I feel sure that there must have been other signs, clues, things that didn't feel quite right.

I keep wondering, if it was my best friend, how far would I push it?

I remember those dungarees.

When I picture Jennifer, she's always wearing them.