‘God, Kitty, it must be difficult being on neurosurgery again what with this and Dr Prince.’

I look up at her.

‘You know about Dr Prince, right? Apparently, his heart attack was really serious. If they hadn’t got him into surgery when they did, he would have died.’

Of course I knew about Dr Prince, but the words ‘he would have died’ pierced through my soul.

The wire creaks, and all at once I am falling. In my mind’s eye, Estelle catches me, and I grip onto her hands for dear life, my legs flailing in the wind. Maybe it’s the booze, or the sheer amount of overwhelmingly bad news, but I completely lose it.

Struggling to speak through my sobs, I tell her everything, starting with the Joker and the Smiling Assassin and including my feelings for Dr Prince. To her credit, she doesn’t even seem fazed when I tell her that Dr Wolfgang Dietrich, her German flame, came over for dinner.

‘Did he ask about me?’ she wants to know.

‘I think we discussed it briefly,’ I lie.

‘Have you been in touch?’

‘A bit.’

She shrugs. ‘It sounds like you’ve had a lot going on.’

When I get to the bit where I kissed Dr Prince, her eyes widen but she doesn’t say anything.

‘I’m such an idiot,’ I say pathetically when I’ve finished. I wipe my nose on my scrub shirt. ‘It’s all my fault.’

‘Of course you didn’t cause his heart attack. God, Kitty, you’re a doctor—you know better than that.’

Nicole is actually being pretty reasonable. I feel bad for having had misgivings about her. She waits until Winnie gets home before she leaves. She promises me she won’t tell anyone what I’ve told her, but if I want to make a complaint about the Joker, she says, she’ll help me write it.

‘Thanks, Nicole,’ I say as I walk her out. ‘You’ve been really nice.’

‘It’s okay,’ she says, giving me a hug at the door. ‘I see how hard it is for you guys. As doctors, you’re not given much support. People expect you to be so perfect all the time.’

As soon as the front door closes, the door to Winnie’s bedroom opens and she emerges. ‘What was that about?’ she asks. ‘Why were you crying? Is that the woman from admin with the sexy clothes?’

I’m reluctant to tell Winnie what has happened, remembering uncomfortably how adamant she’d been that I should report it. If only I’d listened.

‘You were right,’ I say, giving in and sliding down the wall to sit in the hallway. I stare at a crack in the plaster and suppress a sigh. Me and the house, my beloved old house, we are both falling apart.

Winnie looks at me. ‘Right about what?’