I was lying when I told Megan that Tom was just an insurance policy.

The call comes in about two hours after Tom’s charge has been televised. Poor show from the police really.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Hardcastle,” the officer says to my wife. “We should have called earlier. We have charged your sister’s boyfriend with her murder. We are sorry for your loss.”

I take the phone from her hand. “This is Mr. Hardcastle.”

“The husband?”

“Yes.” I am curt. This is all terribly unprofessional, and they are acutely aware of it.

“We are sorry that no one contacted your wife before.”

“We saw the news. My wife had to find out that her sister might have been murdered on the nine o’clock news.” My voice is cold: low and level, like I am trying to keep the lid on the simmering pot of my anger.

“Yes, well. We are sorry. We will ensure that you are kept abreast of any future developments.”

“Please do,” I say and hang up.

“But he’s innocent…” Megan says quietly. It is the first time she has spoken all evening.

“No, Megan.” I tuck my finger under her chin so she is forced to look at me. “He fucked my wife.” Her eyes flick away from mine. “I couldn’t let him get away with that. Could I, Meggie?” I lean in to her, my lips grazing her earlobe, my voice no more than a whisper. “Don’t think that this is the worst of it either.” I kiss her neck. “Now, let’s go and have a nightcap, shall we? It’s getting late.”

The Koskenkorva burns my throat as I sip it slowly, watching Megan gulp hers down. I top her up again. I have chores to do this evening and knowing she’s safely tucked up in our bed will give me one less thing to worry about.

Do you know how long things stay frozen in a chest freezer if there’s a power cut? It depends on how much is inside, and whether you keep the lid closed. I have a wonderful memory of being a boy and the power going out at home. My mother was in hysterics. My father laughed at her. The freezer had been stuffed to the gills: the result of years of special offers, the hoarding of leftovers, and pack sizes meant for a family of four when one of your children is so fussy she will only eat cheese on toast. If you keep it sealed, the temperature will be OK for almost forty-eight hours.

I, of course, was desperate to be shot of all the random ice-damaged chicken Kievs and the lemon ice pops that were always left over, and so I kept creeping into the garage and cracking open the lid. There was an insurance claim, and one day the local frozen food van pulled up on the driveway. The freezer was duly loaded with treats and goodies like it was Christmas.