Hilary turns back to the room, sees the blend of curiosity and disbelief in Leah’s expression. ‘I don’t know what that says about me,’ she admits, and she hears her own voice – the wistfulness in it. ‘I thought it didn’t matter. I just kept focusing on all the reasons why he did it – his unhappiness, what a difficult and troubled person she was, all the complexities within their marriage. And me, I suppose. I felt that he did it so that he’d be free to be with me. I was stupid and selfish and deluded. It was a fantasy. And it wasn’t until I came up here and saw what he was doing to you – saw that violence within him with my own two eyes – it wasn’t until then that I realized the true horror of it. The monster he was.’

She thinks she sees a small flash of terror in Leah’s eyes, but then the young woman gives herself a shake, that steeliness coming back into her resolve.

‘Jake never trusted him. But I … I felt something for him – something platonic,’ she adds quickly. ‘Friendship. I felt he understood something about me.’

‘What about Jake?’ Hilary asks, and Leah puts her hand to her hair, sweeps it back off her face.

‘He’s gone,’ she says plainly. ‘It turns out he wasn’t the one for me after all.’

She meets Hilary’s gaze with a smile touched by defiance, and goes on: ‘I’m fine. I really am. It feels right – inevitable, I suppose. He’s gone to Scotland. His son is there and he wanted to be close to him. And there was nothing really keeping him here.’

‘Except you.’

‘Yes. But that wasn’t enough. And I think both of us knew that. Even before Anton … what happened …’ Her words die away, and Hilary sees her expression grow thoughtful, introspective.

‘Years ago,’ Leah says, ‘I told a lie about something that happened. A serious lie. While I was in hospital, I kept thinking about it, about all the people I’d hurt because of that lie – the damage I’d done. I thought about how I’d lived for years with this shadow hovering over me. I lived like I was afraid the whole time of being found out.’ She fixes Hilary with her clear-eyed stare. ‘I can’t do that any more. When Anton put that pillow over my face, I thought I was going to die and I wanted so badly to live. I don’t like thinking about what would have happened if you hadn’t come into the room. All I know now is that I’ve been given this second chance and I don’t want to mess it up. I want things to be different now. Do you know what I mean?’

Hilary says yes. She understands. A second act. A renewal.