‘Yeah,’ he replied drily. ‘So good you drank a double gin before you even got dressed in the morning, and by mid-afternoon you were so drunk you didn’t care what sort of fool you made of yourself – or me, for that matter.’

‘Oh, well, we can’t have that, can we?’ she said nastily. ‘Your precious reputation has to be preserved regardless of how I feel about things.’ She took a deep drag on her cigarette, blew a stream of smoke into the car and tapped her long nails on the armrest. ‘It’s no wonder I need a drink to get me through the day when I have to put up with you whinging on about everything and laying down the bloody law.’

Terence had heard it all before and was sick of it. Sandra was well on the way to becoming a drunk, but she didn’t fall asleep in a corner or become flirtatious and silly; she became loud and aggressive, speaking her mind and sometimes lashing out if anyone tried to calm her down. It was the reason he’d handed in his notice before he was asked to leave the prestigious practice in the heart of the city – the reason why they’d rented out their beautiful house overlooking the harbour and were making this long and exhausting drive to Morgan’s Reach.

He drove on in a heavy silence. The atmosphere was poisonous, the weather outside threatening and, after the endless furious rows they’d had over the past few weeks, he was exhausted, and suddenly not at all certain that this was a good idea.

‘I’m bored, Terry,’ she said a while later as she fidgeted in her seat. ‘And I need to pee. Is there a roadhouse coming up?’

Terence was half blinded by the flashes of lightning as he concentrated on the road. The storm was definitely gathering momentum and getting closer, and although they’d already been on the road for a week they still had over a hundred miles to go. ‘We passed the last one three hours ago,’ he said. ‘If you’re that desperate I’ll pull over so you can go in the bushes.’

‘Not bloody likely,’ she said with a glower at the offending trees that grew thickly on both sides of the single-lane highway. ‘Apart from the fact I have no wish to bare my backside to snakes and creepy-crawlies, I wouldn’t trust you not to drive off and leave me there.’

Terence fleetingly wished he had the nerve to do just that. It would certainly make his life easier. But despite everything, he could still remember why he’d fallen in love with Sandra, and sadly understood all too well the reason behind her drinking. He just hoped that his spur-of-the-moment decision to return home to Morgan’s Reach would not only rescue Sandra from her drinking, but also save his marriage.