The house that backs on to ours is owned by an elderly couple who don’t get up until quite late in the day. They told me they are a pair of night birds. If I can get into their back garden, I could clamber over the broken-down wall between our properties and into my own. And there is access to their back garden from the road via a path down the side of their house.

I bang the steering wheel with the heel of my hand. That might get me as far as the back door, but how will I get in? I pull into a lay-by and rest my head against the steering wheel. My eyes flood with tears. I’m lost.

The lay-by is obviously a stopping place for people going to the short stretch of shops that line the road, and I glance towards them, wishing more than ever that I could go in and buy something to eat or drink.

My attention is drawn to a poster in the window of the newsagents. I can only read the heading: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN? The rest is too small to read from here, but I don’t need to. All I need to see is the face in the picture.

My face.

I feel my mouth gape open in horror. I’m wanted by the police! But what else could I expect? A passerby glances my way. I spin my head towards the back of the car for fear that he will recognise me, and stare blindly at the seat behind me.

My insides are churning and it takes a second for me to register that I am looking at more than the dark grey upholstery of the seat. Something glints in the orange street-light, and I know instantly what it is. My house keys. I threw them at my bag after my row with Ian – and missed.

Thank God. As long as I’m right about the police only guarding the front of the house, I can get in, take what I need and then run as far away as I can.

I put the car into gear and pull out. Only a few minutes later I reach the street that backs on to ours. As I suspected, the curtains of my elderly neighbours’ bedroom are still closed. It’s not eight o’clock yet, and at this hour on a gloomy February morning there’s very little light. I can see activity in the homes on either side, but hopefully the families will be too busy sorting themselves out for the day to notice me.

I need to be quick. My clothes may not be a total giveaway and with luck I will be mistaken for an early-morning jogger, but bare feet will definitely draw a second glance.