Alex was standing in reception jingling his keys. He wore a blue wool jumper that matched his eyes, heavy outdoor trousers. I wanted to run to him, throw myself into his arms, howl. Instead I smiled, weakly, for the benefit of the officer.

‘Hi.’ My mouth was dry and it came out raspy.

He didn’t say anything, just cocked his head at me to go out. I moved towards the exit of the police station, suddenly very fixated on the square of the outside I could see beyond it. Freedom to walk out, into the sun (OK, it was night-time and raining – it was the Lake District, after all). Part of me had expected to only ever feel fresh air on my face again as I was hustled from station to van to courthouse to prison. Like last time. I had no idea what time it was, but late, clearly. Most of the evening had been lost in interviews and sitting in the cold cell wondering if this was my life from now on. He was parked nearby, but even so I had the urge to cover my face as we walked. I couldn’t bear to be seen like this, to have more photographs in circulation of me leaving police stations. When we were safely inside his old van, which always smelled of mud, Alex let out a deep sigh, hands on the steering wheel.

‘Rachel.’

‘I know, I know. This is crazy.’

‘They’ve had me in all day, over Barrow way. The big station.’

I wondered why they’d taken him there – keeping us apart, maybe? Did they think we’d done this together?

‘They asked so many questions,’ he said. ‘About you, about me, everywhere I went yesterday and the day before, and you too. I can’t even remember exactly, it was so much.’

‘But you’ve got an alibi, right?’ He’d been with Sam the night Anna died, at his flat.

‘Luckily, yes. Colette popped in a few times through the evening, so she can say I was home.’

‘Colette?’

‘From downstairs. You know.’

Oh yes. The young and attractive girl who lived in the flat below Alex. But I couldn’t think about that now. ‘Where’s Sam, is he all right?’

‘With Anna’s parents. He’s—’ He just shook his head. Of course Sam was not all right. ‘But what the hell’s going on, Rach?’

‘Look, I have no idea. I swear, I haven’t seen Anna since that day last week.’

He’d heard all about the argument, of course, from both of us. The two women in his life.

‘But you found her body. And it was your scarf, wasn’t it?’

So that was how they knew. ‘You told them it was mine?’

He looked surprised. ‘You think I should have lied?’