She’s right, of course, but I need to feel in control, and I’ve never believed that shouting was the answer to anything.

I lean over to the back seat to grab the house keys from my handbag. ‘I’m sorry, Thea. You shouldn’t have to be involved in all this. Why don’t you go home? I can get the tram.’

‘Don’t be silly, dear. It’s no problem to wait. It’s quite soothing just sitting here, watching the world go by while I listen to some lovely music. Take all the time you need. I promise that if I get fed up, I’ll go home. So don’t worry. You’ve got enough to think about with that madman in there trying to control your life. He’s taking everything from you, and you mustn’t let him.’

I nod once, open the door and get out. I can feel my heart pounding, and I lean back against the car for a moment, closing my eyes, trying to calm down. But the backs of my eyelids seem to be painted with multicoloured fractured images, and I quickly open them again. With both hands I push myself away from the car and march towards the front door, key at the ready. Shoving the key into the lock I try to turn it, but nothing happens. I pull it out and try again, but it still won’t turn. With mounting fury I realise he’s put the catch on, and I can’t get in. The bastard! I pound on the door with the side of my fist and open the letterbox to yell through it.

‘Open the fucking door, Ian. Now, or I’ll break a window.’

I think of all the times I have meekly stood by while Ian has hurled abuse at me, intimidated and controlled me, and for the first time I don’t care if my behaviour angers him. I’m so tightly wound I know I will give every bit as good as I get.

He still hasn’t opened the door. The garage is open, though, and I’m about to march through to the back of the house when I hear Ian fumbling about behind the front door. There is a click as he releases the lock. He pulls open the door, and I’m horrified at the sight of him. In my absence it looks as if he hasn’t shaved for a week, and his hair is greasy and flattened to his skull. I always thought he was quite good-looking, but not now. I never realised how high his forehead is. With so much facial hair, he looks as if all his features have been squashed into the lower half of his face, and my head jerks back.