Fran stands in the window, peering through the blinds at the mob of press outside. Every time she parts the blinds even slightly you can hear the excited murmurs of the journalists outside, the calls of ‘Fran!’, the snaps of photographs being taken, and I wish she would come away and sit down, keep the blinds closed and give us the chance to shut out the outside world. Every time she peers out and the noise from outside reaches my ears I feel the tension in the room ratchet up yet another notch. It’s unbearable.

Finally, she comes to sit at the table, her face a ghostly shade of white, and I make her a coffee with extra sugar, in the hope that it might bring a bit of colour back into her cheeks. I’ve no idea if it works, but I remember the police officer in Scotland making me hot, sweet tea in the first moments after things went wrong. Before they decided I had something to do with it. Shaking away thoughts of before, I ask Kelly, who has now made an appearance, if it’s OK for me to go up to my room and get dressed.

As I pass the study at the end of the hall the door is ajar, and I can’t help but glance into the room, expecting to see a police officer rifling through the filing cabinet, or Dominic’s desk drawers, but it’s not a police officer in there. Glancing up from the screen of the computer, Dominic’s forehead is beaded with sweat as he slams the lid of the laptop and marches towards me. I back away, my heart starting to thunder in my chest, feet all ready to rush along the corridor to the stairs when he pulls the door open, jumping slightly when he sees me.

‘Oh! Anna, you startled me.’ He glances down the hallway. ‘I was only checking some emails. I’ll be at the hospital if anyone needs me. I might as well go to work while all this is going on, not much use being here, is there?’ He makes a show of glancing at his watch before snatching up his briefcase and heading out the front door.

I creep up the stairs, knocking on my own bedroom door before I enter the room, sweating slightly now that the radiators are warm. The police haven’t reached my room yet, and I allow myself a quick moment of relief, knowing that my secret is safe, for a few more minutes anyway. I think I’ve hidden things well enough that they won’t be found – and if I haven’t . . . well, I’ll have to cross that bridge when I come to it.