‘You’re doing the right thing. Talk to the police. Dale’s forced your hand. No-one can blame you.’

Megan talked as she drove, holding the phone to her face with one hand while steering with the other. ‘Right, I’m on my way.’

‘Okay, we can speak again later. If there’s anything you need, I’m here for you.’

5

Megan visited West Wales Police Headquarters on a regular basis in her role as lawyer, to represent one client or another, offering legal advice, sitting in on interviews.

But this time was different, very different, and as she stood in reception, curling her toes, fidgeting with her cuff, Megan felt like a fish out of water. Her usual professional assurance had been stripped away by the personal nature of her purpose. She was about to shine a light on her private life, something she’d had to do all too often in the recent past, and the prospect filled her with morale-sapping doubts and apprehensions.

But she repeatedly reminded herself that her mother was correct. Lottie had to come first. Dale had crossed a line. Perhaps some time in a cell was precisely what he needed, shock therapy. Maybe then he’d get off the booze once and for all. Perhaps he’d become the man he’d once been – the man she loved.

Megan rocked back and forth where she stood, shivering slightly in her soaked clothes, unable to settle in the one place as she anticipated what was to come. When the receptionist finally appeared behind the grey glass security screen, her friendly face was familiar, but even that didn’t help Megan relax even slightly. As Megan chose her words with care, she feared they might stick in her throat. She’d never felt more out of her comfort zone, never more ill at ease. ‘I… um… I… err… I need to speak to a police officer.’

The receptionist smiled with what looked like genuine affection. ‘It’s still raining then?’

Megan pushed her wet fringe away from her eyes and nodded. ‘Yes, I think it’s getting worse as the morning goes on.’

The receptionist pointed to her left. ‘There’s some paper towels in the ladies’ toilet if that helps.’

Megan shook her head. ‘No, I’m… I’m all right, thanks. I’ve got some tissues in my bag.’

The receptionist smiled again, this time without parting her lips. ‘I haven’t seen you here for a while. How are things? Are you keeping busy?’

Megan searched her busy mind. What was the woman’s name? Susan, Sandy, Sandra, yes, Sandra, that was it. ‘Can I just speak to an officer please, Sandra? I haven’t got time to chat.’

Sandra stiffened, her smile disappearing as quickly as it appeared. ‘Do you want to speak to anyone in particular?’

Megan dabbed at her face with a paper hanky before dropping it back into her bag. ‘No, I’m happy to speak to whoever’s available. But if I can see somebody quickly, that will be appreciated.’

Sandra rolled her eyes. ‘If you could give me an idea of what it relates to, I’d have a better idea who’s best.’