And then she notices the laptop he’s clutching against the side of his body. Her laptop.

‘Tom?’ Her voice drops to a whisper. ‘Tom, what is it?’

She’s never seen him look this angry.

‘Outside,’ he says. ‘Now.’

Kate has to jog to keep up with her husband, her heels sinking into the ground, as she follows him up the wet, marshy field.

‘Tom!’ she cries. ‘Could you just stop? Whatever’s wrong, we can sort it out.’

He stops so suddenly she nearly runs into him.

‘Can we? Because I think you’ve outdone yourself this time, Kate.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ But she does; the laptop clutched to his chest, the expression on his face. She knows exactly what’s wrong.

‘Why?’ His face twists with disgust. ‘Why would you do something so vile?’

‘To protect you! Against accusations of sexual harassment, of inappropriate behaviour, of … of … anything that could be used against you.’

He stares at her in disbelief. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

‘The clients! I recorded your sessions with them in case they …’ She pauses, a cold chill running through her body. Tom’s not talking about the client one-to-one recordings. Somehow he’s accessed her other recordings, the ones of him and Jenna. ‘Those aren’t the videos you’re talking about, are they?’

Tom stares silently down at her, his eyes searching her face. ‘How long have you known?’

Her only option now is to go on the attack. ‘Since I watched the video, the day after you fucked her.’

He flinches.

‘Nearly three years. You’ve known that long and you never—’

‘Said anything? Why would I?’

Tom says nothing but his eyes don’t leave her face. It’s unsettling, this sudden change in her husband’s mood, the reluctance to speak after his burst of anger. Confrontation she was equipped for, but this – this strange stillness – feels cloying and loaded, like the hours before a storm.

‘You told me’ – he says it slowly, deliberately – ‘that if I ever cheated on you you’d leave me; that would be it, no second chances, no forgiveness.’

‘People change and after what happened in Gozo …’ She flounders. ‘It didn’t feel that important.’

‘You must have watched the recording before we set up the sweat lodge. And you didn’t say a word.’

‘And ruin the experience for the guests? Unlike you, Tom, I’ve got self-control. I don’t react to every emotion, every urge that I feel. I was going to confront you about it once we got back to the UK but then everything … everything went wrong and then you were arrested and’ – she shakes her head – ‘and there was no right time. What was I going to do?’ Her voice grows more shrill. ‘Have a go at you about it when you were in prison? When you got out?’

‘I got out nine months ago.’

‘And you had sex with me.’