The barrister for the prosecution, Janet Leen, stepped up. Leen’s face was clay-like, raw and ill-defined, like someone had forgotten to finish it. She moved uncomfortably in her smart clothes; her wig was tatty and trailing hairs; she stamped across the court. But when she spoke, she was sharp as a cut-throat razor.

‘So your husband was experiencing severe financial difficulties?’

‘Not to my knowledge, no. His income was considerable.’

‘But we know he was; his accountant’s already told us. And his spending was out of control.’

‘Not really, for someone who earned what he did.’

‘But the money had dried up.’

‘Not as far as I was aware.’ I had to be honest now. ‘He was in charge of his business affairs.’

‘Ah,’ Leen sniffed disdainfully. ‘The dutiful housewife taking the back seat.’

Christ. What was it with these bloody women and my domestic life?

‘Hardly. But James dealt with his business income himself. I mean, why would I get involved?’

‘Why would you indeed, Mrs Miller, apart from to spend it?’ She smiled a horrible faux smile.

‘I’m not some sort of WAG,’ I retorted. The jury smiled and I relaxed a little. ‘I had a successful career myself before having my children.’

‘Really? Doing what?’

‘I was – I am a journalist.’

‘A journalist.’ Leen spat out the word as if I had just professed to being a child killer. ‘So how did you feel when you found out he was having the affair?’ Slowly she drew out the syllables of ‘aff-air’.

The head of John Huntingdon, James’s barrister, snapped up. There was a murmur through the jury. My stomach plunged.

‘I didn’t know anything about an affair.’ I tried to keep my voice steady. I hadn’t; not when James was arrested, so I wasn’t lying, I told myself.

‘Didn’t it start whilst you were at university?’ Leen said calmly. ‘When you were involved with the ghastly Society X.’

James and I glanced at each other; I tried to hide my shock. There had been no indication that this would be brought up; we had not talked about the Society to Ruth and she had never mentioned it.

‘Objection, Your Honour.’ James’s barrister shot to his feet. ‘What bearing can university shenanigans possibly have on this case?’

The judge looked down from her position of gravitas. ‘Expand, please, Ms Leen.’

‘I just want to explain that Mr Miller is far from the blemish-free character that has been suggested so far.’

‘That’s absolute rubbish,’ I expostulated. ‘Society X—’

‘Mrs Miller,’ the judge said quite gently, ‘please. Wait until you are asked to speak.’

‘Sorry,’ I mumbled. James’s legal team were looking vaguely horrified, muttering to one another. I stared at Janet Leen. She stared calmly back. Her nose looked like someone had given the clay a sharp twist.