The Man at Platform Seven

He was there every morning. He never got on a train.

Anna Miller likes knowing what tomorrow looks like. She books other people's holidays
for a living, she has lunch with her mother every Sunday at one o'clock, and her own
passport has been in a kitchen drawer for three years.

Then a man in a grey overcoat starts appearing at Platform Seven. He is not waiting
for anyone. He is not lost. And after two weeks he is gone — leaving an envelope on
the bench where Anna sits every morning.

Inside is an old photograph of her mother on a beach in 1994, laughing, holding a
baby. Anna has never seen it. One edge has been torn away, and her mother is holding
somebody's hand.

On the back, in blue ink: FIND DANIEL BEFORE HE LEAVES LONDON.

Anna has never heard of Daniel. Her mother says she hasn't either.

Her mother is lying.

*A mystery about the things families decide you are not allowed to know — and how
long twenty years is.*