I turn to my left and after a few hesitant steps realise that I am in a kitchen area, a place I vaguely remember from when Thea brought me down here. It is tidy, but the single bulb casts very little light. The walls seem to be a dingy cream colour and the tops of the cabinets hide in deep shadow.

I know Thea helped me down some stairs, so I creep silently along until I see them on my right. I’ll go up and find her. She’ll know what to do. There is clearly no one else here, so I tell myself there is nothing to be afraid of.

Wearily I climb the stairs, holding on to the banister for support. There is no handle on the door, so I push against it. It doesn’t move. To my right is a keypad. I remember Thea pressing some keys to gain entry when she brought me down here, but I have no idea which ones or the sequence.

For a moment I consider banging on the door to attract attention, but the bathroom is calling. I feel sure that once I’m showered and dressed my head will be clearer. I look down at myself, suddenly aware that I’m still wearing the nightdress Thea left in the bathroom for me after she washed the blood from my body. I shudder with horror at the thought, and my stomach heaves, but nothing comes up.

I stumble back down the stairs. I have to get out of this nightdress with all its memories and I need to find some clothes. But all I find in my room is some underwear that seems clean – but isn’t mine – some baggy tracksuit bottoms and a couple of T-shirts. My clothes aren’t here.

I pull what I need from the cupboard and wander back out into the hallway. It’s an effort to put one foot in front of the other, and for a moment I look back at the bed, wanting to once again crawl beneath its covers and shut out the world. But I mustn’t do that. A shower will make me feel more alive, even if it won’t stop abhorrent images of Ian’s death bursting into my thoughts every few moments.

I’m not sure which door hides the bathroom, so I open them one after the other. There are three bedrooms exactly like mine. They are identical in every way, and I find this slightly unnerving. There are signs that two of them are in use, but the third one only has a bare mattress. Does this mean that there are three of us living down here?