‘Just not his name, or where he lives. Or how she really felt. And, Rachel, you didn’t just see less of each other because she’d met someone. You’ve become so insular since your mother died. You don’t go out. The occasional run, maybe. That creative writing class. But that’s it. Where did the Rachel I knew, who grabbed life with both hands, go?’

I wanted to tell him, but couldn’t, that that girl was lost and the only thing that made her feel found was spending time with another man. One who seemed to understand her loss and her pain and didn’t spend all of his time trying to make her feel as if she should be over it by now.

She’d never get over it.

Michael could understand that. Why couldn’t Paul?

I realised I was angry with him. Angry that he didn’t try harder. That he ran away to Belfast when things got tough and then turned all the problems in our marriage back on me. It wasn’t just me. Was it?

Paul spoke. ‘Rachel, we were all worried about you. We’re all still worried about you. And selfishly, and this isn’t something I’m proud of, but selfishly, when you told me that Clare had been killed … do you know what my first thought was?’

I shook my head, watched as my husband started to cry. I’d never seen him cry before. Not even when the girls were born.

‘Rachel, all I could think was that this would mean there was no way back for us. This would just take you away from me further and look, just look what it’s done. We’ve been at each other’s throats since and I know I’ve been on edge, before you say anything …’

‘The scratches on your arm,’ I said, the one truth that neither of us could escape from. ‘I saw them, Paul. That night we …’

‘That night we had sex. You can say it, you know, Rachel. It’s allowed. We’re married! We’re allowed to have sex and to talk about it. I know we barely do any more.’

There was a bitter tone to his words. Had I been pulling away from him? It had seemed to me that we’d pulled away from each other.

‘It hasn’t been easy,’ I said. ‘I can’t just switch on that side of me, not with everything else.’

In my head, a little voice whispered that I’d found it easy enough to switch it on when I’d been with Michael on Wednesday night. Too easy.

‘I know that. I’ve not pushed you, or pressured you.’

‘But you went elsewhere,’ I said. ‘Didn’t you? Don’t tell me you didn’t. I know what those marks were, Paul.’