Zac spoke quietly to the doctor who visited me at home. Their voices were a hum of babble from far away. There was only one thing in all of it that I could understand, a noise that came like a bomb, but was quickly suppressed. The noise was from Zac. It was a loud, racking sob that he seemed to choke on.

One morning, when the post came, I caught him swooping it up, panic in his face. But it was not his usual jealousy and control. It was that the catalogues of baby and new mother products were continuing to arrive, and he was trying to clear them away to make sure I didn’t stumble on them.

He bought me a lined journal covered in Far Away Tree fabric, a Liberty print he knew I loved. He said, ‘You used to love to write. Maybe it will help.’ His voice went quieter when he continued. ‘I will never read it.’ I thought of the orange journal he used against me as he put the new one in my lap. ‘You have good reason not to believe me, but I won’t. I did read the hospital stories you wrote. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. But they were beautiful, Holly – I couldn’t tell you that then because it would have meant admitting the scale of what I’d done.’

For him to say this to me – I couldn’t – I hardly knew how to speak. ‘You found my old journal because you’d installed hidden cameras.’

‘Holly—’

‘It’s the only explanation. Did you or did you not?’

‘I did.’

‘Are the cameras gone?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where were they?’

He didn’t answer.

‘Our bedroom? Tell me, Zac.’

‘No, there wasn’t.’

‘You’re lying. I know it.’

‘Okay. Yes. There was one there, yes. But not for the reason you think. I was worried they might secretly search the house, because of my ex-wife.’

‘Don’t dehumanise her by calling her your ex-wife. Call her by her name. Call her Jane.’

He looked down. He swallowed hard but said nothing.

‘Why would they search the house, Zac?’

‘They thought I had something to do with Jane’s disappearance. I didn’t.’

‘Did you catch anybody – I mean, did you see anyone come in the house?’

‘No. I know I shouldn’t have put that camera in the bedroom. I know there’s no excuse for subjecting you to that.’

‘So there was film of me. Film of the things you did to me.’

‘Yes.’

‘Because obviously you needed to capture our bed to guard against potential intruders. Did you watch it?’

He hesitated. ‘I want to lie and say no, but I don’t want to lie to you any more. They say – I’ve been going – I’ve been getting help. So yes, I did sometimes watch.’

‘Did anybody else see it?’

‘No! Never! Of course not.’

‘You didn’t give the footage to anyone?’