Justine nodded. ‘Yes . . . when he was like that there was no point in trying to reason with him, so I left.’

‘You have said that your ex-husband was never physically abusive towards you. Were you scared of him? Particularly that afternoon, when you told him that he was no longer able to stay at your house?’

Justine made an odd movement, twisting her body, as if she was trying to escape from something.

‘He had threatened me,’ she said finally.

‘Did he threaten you that afternoon?’ Tyler asked.

‘If you have been listening to what I’m saying, it must be obvious, isn’t it?’

McDermott straightened up in his chair. Justine was flexing her hand and curling it into a tight fist. He leaned towards her.

‘Now is the opportunity for you to tell them exactly what happened, Justine. There is no need for you to protect his reputation now.’

She sighed and made a slight hissing sound, then bowed her head and spoke softly, so she was barely audible. ‘I hit him.’

‘Could you repeat that, please?’ Tyler asked.

‘I HIT HIM!’ she almost shouted. She took a deep breath before continuing. ‘He threatened me and said he would call someone to throw me out. I decided that it was pointless talking to him. He was becoming agitated, so I walked down the hallway to let myself out. I did not plan it, it just happened. There was a cricket bat, which he always kept by the front door. I knew he was going to try to stop me leaving. I picked it up and I swung it. I think it caught him on the side of the head and he lost his footing and hit the wall. He started crying and, as always, began begging me for forgiveness, but this time – and this was the first time – I did not feel an overriding sense of pity for him. Instead, I said something that I have never said to him before. Charles had a terrible guilt complex, which was the seed of his self-hatred. He believed that he had killed his brother, Tommy. I had always reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, but I told him that I knew he had hidden Tommy’s inhaler and deliberately provoked an asthma attack. I then repeated what his aunt Eunice had told me.’

Jane looked up sharply, recalling Foxley’s aunt Eunice telling her that she had not seen Justine for many years.