She started banging the door, screaming as loudly as she could. She didn’t know who was out there, or even if they’d want to let her out. Maybe they’d rather keep her locked up in here until she died, but she had to try. Because despite everything, she wasn’t ready to die just yet.

At first, she thought it would be like the last time and no one would hear her. But then a miracle happened. A man was outside, shouting through the door, asking who was in there.

‘My name’s Dee,’ she said. ‘I’m a friend of Emer’s. Is she with you? Is she okay?’

‘Dee?’

‘There’s no key.’ A woman’s voice, this time. ‘You won’t get inside without a key.’

‘Give me that,’ the man said. ‘I should be able to use it to prise the door open. Dee! Get away from the door while I open it.’

It took an age, but eventually he managed to crack open the door. And then he was pushing it and light was flooding in, too bright. Dee put an arm over her eyes, protecting them. She stumbled forward and he caught her, putting his arm around her as he guided her outside.

‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘You’re safe now.’

Gradually, her eyes adjusted, and when she was able to take her arm away, he was staring at her, his brown eyes creased with concern.

‘Ed,’ she said. ‘What the bloody hell are you doing here?’

‘I was about to ask you the same question,’ he said.

Time passed in a blur of activity. The man who’d attacked her – Robert O’Brien – was in custody. Before rescuing Dee, Ed had handcuffed Robert to the door handle of his car so he couldn’t get away. Then he’d called for back-up, which arrived shortly after in the form of a squad car with two uniformed officers and Ed’s partner, Rachel Lewis. The two officers had taken Robert to the custody suite in Eastbourne. Rachel stayed behind to help Ed try to make sense of the mess Dee had found herself in the middle of.

First, though, Ed had to tell Fiona Holden that her husband was dead. Dee remembered the shock of hearing her ex-husband had been murdered. It had devastated her, even though she’d spent the years prior to Billy’s murder convincing herself she hated him. Turned out that wasn’t true. After he was dead, she realised it was possible to still love someone long after you stopped wanting to share your life with them.

‘It’s all my fault,’ Fiona said, when she’d stopped crying enough to be able to speak. ‘I’ve ruined everything.’