The corners of Beth’s mouth lift, then drop, the effort of smiling seemingly too much. But she nods and gestures to the kitchen door. Kat doesn’t have any difficulty finding her own smile. This is what she’s been hoping for since she first saw Beth’s picture on MyNeighbour. An invitation into Beth’s home. And now Beth is the vulnerable one. She slides open the kitchen door, gives Luna a quick pat, then drops the knife safely into its block. By the time she turns round, Beth is slumped on one of the four bar stools lined up against the island unit.

‘Um, can I get you anything? Glass of water?’ Kat asks tentatively. It’s strange to be stood in Beth’s kitchen, playing the host, but it’s also a golden opportunity to get closer to this woman who has occupied her thoughts for the last eleven days, and on some level, the last eighteen years.

‘Thank you,’ Beth whispers. ‘I’m not normally …’ She hangs her head, but more in exhaustion than shame. Kat uses the opportunity to feel for her phone, and is relieved to find it in the back pocket of her jeans.

‘We all have difficult days,’ she says, slipping the phone out, taking a clandestine photo, then putting it away again. She turns to the cupboards and tries to guess which one holds the glasses. The units are navy blue and gleam under a strip of LED lighting. There are no handles on the cupboard doors and Kat wonders if her touch will leave a smear. ‘Is your husband here?’ she asks, pushing lightly on the door above the wine rack. Her logic pays off. There are dozens of glasses inside, all sparkling, and regimentally lined up according to their purpose.

‘He’s in Dublin,’ Beth murmurs. ‘Business trip.’

Kat’s mind races. Beth’s children are here – Kat heard the TV playing in the room off the entrance hall – but otherwise she’s alone while that angry kid is out there somewhere. But telling Beth about him could make things worse. She takes the glass over to the sink.

‘There’s a filter water tap.’ Beth’s voice, small and dulled, floats over Kat’s shoulder. ‘You just need to push the lever back.’ Kat wonders how Beth can worry about water impurities when she can’t stand up straight, but she follows the instructions, then slides the full glass across the island. The worktop is made of one of those composite materials, quartz or Corian, and shines white under the three brushed copper lights that hang down from the ceiling. It’s perfectly clean except for the area where Beth is sitting, which is blemished by tiny red splatters arcing around her.

‘Shall I get a cloth? Wipe that up?’

Beth looks down, then careers backwards, almost losing her balance on the stool. ‘Oh God, I was eating raspberries. I didn’t see …’