When I open my eyes I am back in the kitchen. My head is burning with pain. I try to touch it but my arms won’t move. I look down and see that they have been bound.

‘Hello?’ I say, my voice raw and cracking. ‘Help me!’

I hear footsteps. I look up. Barbara is standing in the doorway.

‘Untie me,’ I say as she comes towards me. ‘This is insane. Just untie me and let me go.’

Barbara ignores me and sits down at the table opposite. She leans forward and clasps her hands tightly.

‘I told you to stop and look what’s happened. Why didn’t you just stay away?’

‘Why have you tied me up, you mad woman?’ I yell.

‘She didn’t,’ says a voice. ‘I did.’

I turn round. Julia is standing at the sink. Her hands are covered in blood.

‘Julia?’ I say. ‘What are you …’

And then I see it. The knife. A simple kitchen knife, but the way she is clasping it in her right hand fills me with fear. The blade glints in the light.

‘Please,’ I say, trying to keep my voice calm and steady. ‘I don’t know what is happening here. I don’t know what I’ve done.’

I look at Barbara. The colour has drained from her face. It’s then I realize: she’s scared too.

‘Julia,’ she says shakily. ‘Why don’t you put that down? There really isn’t any need for –’

‘I’ll decide what there’s a need for,’ Julia snaps, her eyes blazing.

She comes towards me then and instinctively I flinch.

‘Don’t be so jumpy,’ she says, pulling a chair out next to me. ‘I just want to talk.’

She sits down, still holding the knife.

‘What do you want to talk about?’ I say, keeping my eyes on the knife.

‘I want to talk about me,’ she says, leaning forward. ‘I want to tell you about my life.’

‘Julia, come now, stop this,’ says Barbara. ‘You’re doing yourself no favours.’

‘I don’t want favours,’ she says, spitting the words out. ‘I just want to let this bitch know what she’s done to me.’

‘Done to you?’ I say. ‘I’ve done nothing to you. I barely even know you.’

‘That’s right, you don’t know me,’ she cries, leaping to her feet. ‘You don’t know anything about me.’

‘Julia, calm down,’ says Barbara. ‘Or someone’s going to get hurt.’

‘I think it’s too late for that,’ Julia says quietly.

Then she kneels down in front of me and holds the knife to my throat. I can feel it there, pressing against my skin. I don’t dare to breathe.

‘Please,’ I whisper. ‘Please, I’m begging you. Don’t hurt me. Whatever it is. Whatever you think I’ve done to you. We can sort it out. I’m sure.’