Her voice is harsh, and I can tell she is really quite cross with me, but given everything else that is in my head I don’t give it much thought. She jumps up off the bed with far more energy than one might expect from a woman of her age.

‘Right. I’m going to get you something to eat, and please don’t argue. We need to work out what is for the best, bearing in mind that we are implicated in this too. It was my car, and it’s probably caught on CCTV somewhere, and you’re in my house. So I would be grateful if you would accede to my requests until we are able to come up with a solution that causes the least damage to all of us.’

I stare at her back as she marches out of the door.

When Thea returns with a big bowl of porridge I can’t bear the thought of eating it, or of drinking the herbal brew sitting alongside it on the tray. I just want to throw up. But Thea’s mouth is set in a hard line; it’s unlike any expression I have seen before on her face. She seems angry with me, and who can blame her?

I start to get out of bed again. ‘I should go, Thea. None of this has anything to do with you. I’ll tell the police that I honestly don’t remember what I did, but I’ll take my punishment if I have to.’

Only part of me believes this. I don’t want to go to prison, but I can’t stay here either.

‘Will you please sit down, Judith.’

‘My name’s not Judith,’ I say, with a flash of defiance.

‘Eat this now,’ she says, ignoring my remark. ‘Nobody thinks well on an empty stomach.’

I will try to eat it to please her, but I’m not sure I can swallow.

I take a mouthful of the hot tea and manage to get it down my throat, so I pray that I can swallow the porridge, which sits like a grey puddle in the bowl, swimming in honey and cream. I take a spoonful, the sickly sweet honey masking all other tastes. The porridge feels thick and claggy and seems to grow to fill my mouth so that I can barely find the saliva to swallow it. I gulp, and Thea nods.

‘More,’ she says, staring at me fiercely. I do as she says.

Gradually it becomes easier, and I feel myself start to relax. Thea was right – hunger was making me incapable of coherent thought. She stands over me until every scrap has gone and the mug is completely empty. I begin to feel the tension slipping away.