Richard fought to restrain himself as Amber rushed towards him. The make-up she had spent the evening applying had spoiled; streaks of black tears ran down her face and the bruise on her cheekbone had begun to show. The gravel driveway crunched beneath her soles.

‘Richard!’

She put the dog down on the driveway and latched onto him. She sobbed into his chest as Penelope shook in the cold at their feet. Richard stood with his arms by his sides and his hands clenched into fists until he could feel his pulse racing in his palms. Her breath smelt of the champagne.

The policewoman watched his face and spoke again.

‘Your wife did everything she could. After your neighbour had an allergic reaction, she tried to administer his medication, but he had already passed. With severe allergies, attacks can be very quick.’

He tightened every muscle in his body to shield himself from her touch. Her sobs warmed the breast of his coat and her nails dug through the fabric and into his back. She clung to him like some sort of animal. A beast.

Her proximity repulsed him. He longed to push her away from him, and imagined caving her head in with the heel of his foot. He had never wanted to end a life until that moment. He and Amber had never been so alike.

She began to murmur his name into the breast of his coat and held onto him until he struggled to breathe.

He didn’t dare look at her. If he even gave her a second’s glance, he had no idea what he might do. In that moment, as he stood before James’ house bathed in blue light, he was capable of anything. He could rip the skin from her face with his bare hands. He could wring the life out of her neck without even a blink. But beneath the rage, he pined for the man zipped up in the body bag, and bit back the tears until his throat burned.

‘It’s OK for you to take your wife home, Mr Jenkins; we have her statement. We will keep you informed of what happens next. Can I do anything?’

Amber shook her head and looked up at him. Tears rolled down her cheeks. He looked away.

‘I just want to go home. Will you take me home, Richard?’

He would never see James’ smile again, or feel his heartbeat as they lay together, or kiss his lips or stroke his hair. Amber hadn’t just killed James, but everything that came with him. In that moment, Richard wished he were dead.

Amber’s breath rose in clouds, lit blue by the flashing lights, as she waited for his reply.

He couldn’t nod, speak, even trust himself to peel her away from him without being too rough. He wanted her to feel as much pain as she had caused him. He wanted her to die.