Dan bit at the inside of his cheek as he stared at his wife. I know I’m not a very good liar, he thought to himself. That’s what I told Katie. “I have not been having an affair, Jackie,” he said in a voice that was as controlled as he could make it.

Jackie slammed her hand hard down on the table. “Come on, Dan. Let’s at least be adult about this! Why don’t you just admit it to my face? On the other hand, why do I need that kind of proof? Your actions speak well enough for you.”

Dan kept staring at her. How the hell could she have known? There was no way anyone could have told her, because nobody knew about it except Katie and himself.

“Did you not know, Dan, that the best way to express guilt is through silence?”

Dan heaved out a long sigh. He could not be bothered with telling Lie No. 3, because it would only lead on to Lie No. 4, and then Lie No. 5.

“It was only one night, Jackie.”

Jackie drummed her fingers hard on the table. “One night. Well, at least that’s a start.” She got up and walked towards him. “But the trouble is that I don’t believe you, you rotten bastard. I reckon that it was going on for a lot longer than one night.”

“It was not,” Dan replied, moving back from the threatening presence of his wife.

Jackie stopped inches away from him and glared into his eyes. “And to think that you’ve made me feel so guilty about everything over the past few months. How dare you make me feel that way when you’ve been carrying on with another woman.”

Dan frowned at her, having absolutely no understanding of how she had found out about Katie and what she was talking about right now. “What do you mean, I’ve made you feel guilty? Guilty about what?”

Jackie hit back. “So what was it like screwing her, Dan? Was she so much better than me?”

“Oh, come on, Jackie. It was only one night, I promise you. That’s all. Her husband was—”

“I know!” she interjected. “I know everything! Her husband was killed on the eleventh of September two thousand and one in New York, and you, the kindhearted friend, stepped in with your solace and your compassion, and you made love to her and you got her pregnant.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jackie marched over to the sideboard and opened a drawer, and pulled out a fistful of papers. She held them up in her hand and Dan could make out in the corner of the topmost sheet the black horse logo of Lloyd’s Bank. “Every month, from your bank account, there is a transfer of two hundred and fifty pounds into Debbie Leishman’s account in New York.”