‘That’s great,’ he says. ‘There’s a press conference at Strand Road Police Station at noon about the incident last night. I’ve arranged for Tommy to cover it. I just wanted to make sure you knew.’

I take a deep breath. ‘There’s no need for Tommy to go. I’ll go myself.’

He pauses. I hear an intake of breath.

‘Ingrid, are you sure? Things are getting heavy.’

‘I’m sure,’ I say. ‘And I’ve only half an hour to get ready if I’m to be there on time, so if you don’t mind …’

‘Okay. If you’re sure. Just get what they say. File the copy. Leave it at that. You don’t have to make this bigger than it needs to be. It’s not worth it. We need you safe. I need you safe,’ he says.

There’s a hint of affection in his voice. I’m shocked by it. This time it’s not about health and safety or insurance. It’s about his need to have me safe. It’s possible that he genuinely does care about me. While that might feel too uncomfortable a shift in our dynamic, right now I’ll take it. I need to feel like I matter to someone in the middle of this madness.

‘I’ll get the copy up on the website as soon as I can,’ I say to him. ‘And I’m okay, Ryan. I’m not taking any chances.’

The truth is, of course, that I don’t know if I’ll be taking any chances.

I’m ready to go in just twenty minutes, which gives me enough time to walk to the police station, given that my car is still in Foyleside car park.

It’s only when I’m standing at my front door, opening the locks and getting ready to go out, that I realise my heart is thudding and I’m holding my breath. What has always been so familiar to me now feels scary. I don’t know what I will find around the next corner. I don’t know who to trust. I don’t want to go out, but I have to.

I force myself to exhale, trying to calm the shuddering of my breath. I remind myself it’s daylight. I will be walking along a busy walkway. I will be safe. I am heading in the direction of the police station. It will be fine.

Putting one foot in front of the other, I fight back the fear. I’m just doing my job. I’m safe, I tell myself. I’m safe.

Maybe if I say it enough times, I’ll start to believe it.