She tears off the top of her cigarette box, writes her number on it and throws it across the table. I’ll never use it, but I take it. I suddenly remember Sandra Bullock in some film where someone says you have to look after a plant, then a pet, then you might be ready to look after a relationship. Or yourself. The guilt eases a little and a wave of relief washes over me. I was beginning to believe it. That I was mad. That I was the psychopath. But this chink of regret tells me I’m not. Unfuck myself. Yes. There’s still a chance for me.

Pam leaves. I put on my coat and because I’ve had no sleep I get a taxi to the police station. DS Percy is in a call me Lorraine mood. She’s talking about the Peter Daubney case, how they haven’t made any progress. How they are trying to trace and question everyone in the bar that night. Going on about a lot of things that have been stolen – more than I took, for sure. Had I remembered anything else?

She makes me a cup of hot coffee and we chat about what we did last night as if I am stupid enough not to know she is sounding out my movements. But I oblige and give her a rundown of how I fell asleep early. When I’ve finished she leaves the room and comes back minutes later with a file and a tablet.

‘Do you know this woman?’

It’s Pamela. In my wedding dress. For one horrible minute I think she’s played me at my own game and told them what I did.

‘I don’t know the woman but that’s my wedding dress. The one that I was going to give to my daughter. Priceless.’

She reads the file. It takes a long time and I worry more about what Pam had to talk so much about. But I’m totally on the wrong track.

‘So it turns out that she’s contacted your ex about the picture being posted and he said you had done it. Even after I had told him that it wasn’t you.’ She shuts the file and leans forwards. ‘Look, I can see what’s going on here. He’s harassing you. And you can do something about it. You can press charges. Against both of them. Caroline, do you think that he sent those photographs?’

My God. Just when I was going to spill the beans, she’s worked it out. She’s put it together. Finally. She not sure, but she’s asking me. Perfect.