My legs briefly buckle from under me but I manage to pull myself together and lift the dead weight of my body forward. When I approach them, Detective Lee steps away from the car and apologises for calling to my workplace but says they have to speak to me urgently.

Her words take pride of place in my head. Every other sound – the traffic, the wind, the screeching of horns, the passing footsteps – has muted. If I cry, will the detectives think I’m guilty? I want to cry. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. For some reason, I think all the people in the traffic jam are looking at me. They probably know the two people standing over me are cops. Cops have a certain look, a stance, they come in twos. They make people nervous. They’re unmistakable.

‘Is it okay if we come inside?’ Detective Lee says.

‘I’d rather you didn’t. Whatever you’ve got to say, say it here.’ Did I just say that out loud? I’m sounding braver than I feel.

‘Well, you could come down to the station if that would be better for you.’ Her tone is laced with power. The ball is most definitely in her court. Shit, what do I do now? I certainly don’t want to go to the police station. What will Lucas think if he finds out his wife-to-be is being questioned at a police station – and so close to the wedding? A desperate feeling threatens my composure. Will Lucas still want to marry me?

I’m shaking all over and my head is thumping. What am I going to do? I glance to my right. Through the glass window I see Muriel looking out at me. She certainly won’t appreciate me walking into work with two cops in tow. I’m about to ask them to wait until I speak to my boss when I hear a voice coming from behind me.

‘Is everything okay, Tara?’

I look around and see Sean the solicitor standing behind me. His face is glowing, the watery sun providing him with what looks like a halo. He appears like Jesus rising from the dead. Immediately, I release the trapped tears and Sean puts his arm around me. I’m like a three-year-old crying in the teacher’s arms. Looking for a plaster. Where’s my plaster?

Sean puts his hand out and gives the detective a card. ‘If you wish to speak to my client, call me and make an appointment.’

My client. Why did he say that? When did I become his client?

Detective Lee takes the card, reads it and says, ‘Well, if you think you need a solicitor that’s fine, but we weren’t going to keep you long, Tara, it was just a few quick questions.’