‘… but it may harm your defence if you fail to mention when questioned anything you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’

I’m here again with a jolt. I nod. I wrap my arms around my body and huddle. If I create enough warmth, it might help with the pain.

‘For the tape,’ he says.

I haven’t seen this officer before. There is something in his eyes that telegraphs dullness. He blinks slowly as if the wheels are moving through sludge. But there’s also something else there, humanity maybe? Suppressed, but there, blistering the skin, waiting to break free but being held back by stupidity. I wait, expecting the bubble to burst so I can be honest with him. But I don’t know if I can just say to him that I did not attack her. That I only watched. That yes, I failed to act, but I did nothing. That that was my crime and I’m prepared to suffer the consequences of that inaction.

‘You have to say it out loud, for the tape.’

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I understand the caution.’

‘Do you know why you have been arrested?’

‘Yes,’ I say.

The officer looks unsurprised by this. Maybe everybody who is arrested knows why they have been taken.

‘Tell me then. Why do you think you’ve been arrested?’ he says, then looks across at his partner.

I have barely registered her presence. She sits at his side, hair pulled back from her face. I’m not sure what her official title is but it feels as if she is in deference to him, this man who she must know can’t keep up with her. The intelligence in her eyes shows the advantage she has over him.

‘The murder. Or the attempt, however you want to define it. But I didn’t do it,’ I say, looking at my hands. I shrug in my clothes and suddenly, in this confined space, I feel the urge to run. The room is too small for three of us really. It’s tiny, just enough space for the table and chairs. There’s certainly no room to spread.

‘Okay, well, we are here to listen. We aren’t making any judgements, are we, Rochelle? Just tell us what happened from your point of view.’

Rochelle? I wonder. Might that have been her name too? The name brings a rush of familiarity. Perhaps I heard it, that night. Was that the name he had been calling out? Over and over.

‘I didn’t do it. But I was there. I saw it happen,’ I say.

‘You saw what happen?’ she asks. Her eyes narrow and I can see they are processing something I am not included in.