‘Rachel, I’m so sorry. I dropped my phone in the sink on Thursday and I couldn’t get it to switch on. I had to stick it in a bowl of rice to dry it out. I didn’t have your number to call you from another phone and my laptop’s on the blink, so I couldn’t even send you an email or a message.

‘I got your message about the flowers just before it happened and I’m so sorry. I just wanted to do something. I watched the press conference and it’s just beyond belief. I’m so sorry. What must you think of me, especially after Wednesday night? You probably thought I was the worst person in the world.’

He sounded so genuinely upset, I just closed my eyes and let his voice soothe me. The knowledge that he hadn’t been ignoring me, or huffing with me, came with such a sense of relief that I felt the need to see him as quickly as I could.

‘Can I come and see you?’ I asked.

‘Of course you can. Can you come now?’

‘I’ll be with you in ten minutes,’ I told him and we ended the call.

Even though I knew Paul would be expecting me home shortly, even though I knew the girls would be awake and wondering where I was, I selfishly needed to see Michael more than I did them, so I set off for his house.

I parked at the rear of Michael’s house, aware that it was daytime and that my car could easily have been spotted by passing traffic. He was waiting for me at the back gate and quickly ushered me inside. I fought the magnetic urge to reach for his hand as we walked up the garden path, knowing we had to be careful. Once inside, I allowed him to pull me into a hug and, to my embarrassment, I started crying. He held me and rocked me as I let go of the tension I’d been carrying with me all morning.

He didn’t make promises that it would be okay, only that he’d be here for me when I needed him. When I broke away from his embrace, he led me to his kitchen, where he sat me down and made a cup of tea. He fetched me a glass of water and some paracetamol for the headache that had just kicked in.

He listened as I told him about going to see where it had happened. About the bizarre note. He listened as I told him that I suspected Paul may be cheating on me.

‘How would you feel – really feel – if he was?’ Michael asked, his green eyes staring intently at me.

‘I suppose it would be hypocritical to say I’d be hurt?’ I said, knowing that it was.