‘Harry was dying and Ben had come home to visit him,’ she says, looking down into her half-empty glass. ‘But I knew something was up. He was permanently glued to that bloody phone. That morning, Ben was up in the bedroom talking to Harry. I noticed he’d left the phone on the kitchen table. It wasn’t locked so I had a look through his call history. I wanted to see what was preoccupying him. And that’s when I saw your name.’

She looks up at me and shakes her head. ‘You,’ she cries. ‘The girl who had done so much damage to our family; the girl who had ruined Ben’s life, opened a rift between my husband and me that would never be fully healed. I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be happening. Anyway, I saw that it had been just one call but that call had lasted an hour. I knew it would escalate and I knew that if you wormed your way back in then our Ben would stand no chance so I sent you a message and asked if you would meet that evening.’

‘Why would you want to meet me?’

‘I wanted to put a stop to whatever was about to unfold between the two of you,’ she says. ‘I knew what that poor chap of yours was going through, having to sell his house and work all the hours God sends just to keep you, and I wanted to talk some sense into you.’

‘But why would you pretend to be Ben?’

‘Oh, Margaret,’ she says. ‘I hardly think you’d have agreed to meet me. What choice did I have?’

I sit for a moment, letting her words sink in.

‘You were wearing red,’ I say. ‘A red coat.’

‘Yes, I think I was.’

Then the final piece comes back to me.

‘I locked the door because I didn’t want Elspeth to hear what you had to say,’ I continue. ‘I knew you’d be spouting poison and I didn’t want her to get scared.’

‘That was your choice, and a rather foolish one at that,’ she says.

And I realize, with a sickening feeling, that she’s right. I think back to the text message, the prickle of excitement I’d felt when I saw Ben’s name. Why hadn’t I just left it alone?

‘That poor child,’ says Barbara, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. ‘As far as I am aware, Margaret, it was you who caused your child’s death. You got out of the car on a steep bank and left your handbrake off.’

‘Don’t you dare accuse me of killing my child,’ I yell, tears flooding down my face. ‘You ran, while I did everything I could to save her. I was a good mother to her. I was. And I would have been a good mother to Julia too. You’re a monster.’