As I passed a row of elongated town houses, a cagouled man appeared at one of the doors with a beautiful greyhound. The dog looked as nervous as I was. The man nodded his head in my direction but didn’t say hello or mention the monsoon. We were still in London, after all.

Although happy to encounter another human, one who didn’t appear to be a rapist or killer, my imagination didn’t quit. Instead, in my head, I played out the following day’s interview with that man. The last person to have seen me alive. I’d cast him as Anthony Hopkins. The policeman was Tom Hardy. I played myself, grey, open-eyed, slit throat. A red rose placed on my chest. The first victim of a serial killer seemed better somehow. The greyhound barked once in the distance, immediately followed by whimpers.

I abandoned the useless brolly in someone’s wheelie bin, then turned into the last side street before the main road, which was darker than the others. The downpour turned biblical. I could barely see ahead, so took shelter under the pillared entrance of the mansion block I was passing.

After flicking rain from my face, hands, hair, I lit a fag and watched the water bounce off the pavement, until a noise louder than the downpour made me jump.

A car was coming to a violent stop on the opposite side of the road. A hundred nails on a blackboard. I wasn’t sure what kind of car it was – I’m not a car person – but even I realized it was beautiful, classic.

Just as I made out the shape of a man and woman through the steamed windows, there was a scream. I shat myself and was about to grab my phone when I realized the woman was screaming the words ‘But I love you, I love you’ over and over. I patted my heart and pulled hard on my fag to soothe myself, then watched the show.

It was mainly angry muffles. No clarity at first other than the odd words such as ‘love’, ‘selfish’ and ‘bastard’ from her. And ‘done’, ‘mental’ and ‘calm down’ from him. This went on for some time until her explosive ‘You’re such a fucking shit.’ She got out. Her door remained open and light burst from inside, creating silhouettes. I couldn’t see her properly, but she was tall, elegant. She stepped away from the vehicle, then returned to it.

‘I’ve been such a bloody idiot.’ She was crying.

‘Well, go back to him, then. Nothing’s stopping you,’ said the man.

She dipped her head back into the car to shout, ‘I hate you.’ Door slammed. This shocked the rain into lessening.